


The Powerless Prince

by dk323



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Fairy, Kidnapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 01:03:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dk323/pseuds/dk323
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not long after being born, Prince Arthur Pendragon is kidnapped. When he’s older, Arthur learns he’s destined to save his poisoned land with the help of a First Order wizard named Merlin. During their time together, Arthur soon discovers that not possessing magic like his mother makes him far from powerless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Powerless Prince

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Llama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama/gifts).



> This fic was written for Llama as a part of the Merlin Holidays exchange. 
> 
> **Prompts/kinks/tropes fulfilled:** amnesia, two against the world, journey, characters dropped into dangerous situations, nightmare, huddling for warmth, winter, insanity
> 
> Thank you to my beta for your very helpful feedback on my story. I truly appreciate it.
> 
> Happy Holidays, Llama!
> 
> I really liked your prompts, and tried to incorporate some of them. I especially liked the "two against the world" prompt…seems just perfect for Arthur and Merlin. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story. I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters depicted herein belong to Shine and BBC. The show Legend of the Seeker is property of ABC studios (several ideas used, but with changes to suit this story). There are some elements inspired by Disney’s Tangled. I make no profit from this endeavor.

_And they say when confronted by a Pristinely Ungifted one, a wizard will fall to his knees, powerless._

~ * ~

“Arthur?” Merlin said, but Arthur had stopped breathing. “Arthur! No. You can’t die!”

“You can’t leave me so soon,” he whispered quietly, hugging Arthur’s body to him. 

Silent tears fell down his face but Merlin didn’t have the energy to wipe them away.

Merlin barely knew Arthur yet it was still painful to watch any man die, bleeding out before him, and as a Wizard of the First Order he could do nothing.

~ * ~

**Eighteen years earlier:**

Queen Ygraine of Camelot thought the worst day of her life was the day she lost her sight completely. Her blindness was the price she had to endure from the magic-poisoned land. Then she reconsidered that assessment the day her son was born and she couldn’t even see him.

The Court Physician, Taliesin, told her that Arthur had golden hair and blue eyes just like her. 

Ygraine was glad for it, as Arthur’s late father was a man she did not care to think about now. Uther had always been uneasy about her magical ability and her friendship with Nimueh. 

“Your Majesty,” Taliesin spoke up. “I believe Arthur is unlike any other child in the land,” he told her.

“What do you mean? Has the magic of the land affected him already?” Ygraine asked him. As she leaned back against the pillows, Ygraine cradled Arthur close to her, kissing him softly on top of the head. “Mother loves you, my little one,” she whispered in a tone of deep affection.

She hoped Arthur would be older before the poisoned land forced an affliction on him. These afflictions were burdens both magic and non-magic folk couldn’t escape from.

“No, that’s not it. The opposite I believe. I’ve never seen this sort of condition before,” Taliesin admitted.

Suddenly Ygraine heard the telltale sound of Nimueh magically appearing in the room, followed by a thud and a sigh. Had that been Nimueh? She again wished she could see, but she felt she was getting better at strengthening her other senses. She didn’t doubt that it had been Nimueh collapsing. 

“Taliesin?” Ygraine asked him. She heard the older man walk away from her. 

“It’s not good, My Queen,” Taliesin informed her. “I believe Nimueh is dead. The poisoned land has claimed her life.”

“No. No. It can’t be true.” Ygraine uttered in disbelief. 

The shock of her dear friend’s death had taken the breath out of her, the pain of such a loss making her heart ache. But as she felt the comforting weight of her son in her arms, she knew she had to stay strong and be there for him. He was her priority now. 

When Arthur started to cry, Ygraine murmured soothing words to him. He quieted to her relief.

“She came with a message she couldn’t deliver,” Taliesin continued quietly. 

Ygraine heard the sound of paper being unfolded.

“What does it say, Taliesin?” Ygraine asked him.

“It’s about Arthur. Nimueh said that Arthur is the Pristinely Ungifted one we’ve all been waiting for. She Saw this truth just before she composed this message. And well… the words are raised, Your Highness. I think you can read them by touch.”

Ygraine took the piece of parchment he placed in her hand. She felt the raised marks upon the parchment and sombrely read with her fingers.

_“I can feel my final moments descend upon me. I will die soon, and nothing can be done. But do not mourn me, my dear friend and kindred spirit._

_I will always love you, My Beloved Ygraine. Be happy that your golden son, your Arthur, will be safe from the nightmare of our poisoned land. A nightmare that I believe he will rescue us all from with your steady guidance._

_Fare well, my love._

_Nimueh”_

Ygraine felt tears fall down her cheeks and she hugged Arthur closer to her.

“My Lady, I need to look Arthur over,” Taliesin told her not unkindly. “To understand his nature as a Pristinely Ungifted one better.”

“Tomorrow, Taliesin. That can wait, old friend.”

“Of course, Your Highness. I understand.”

Ygraine felt Arthur be an anchor for her, keeping her from falling apart under the sudden loss of Nimueh. While Nimueh had told her that she feared the poison of the land would kill her one day, Ygraine had refused to believe it. Refused to believe that her closest friend wouldn’t even live to see Arthur growing up.

But now she had to accept that Nimueh was gone, and she had to live for Arthur’s sake. That’s what Nimueh would have wanted. 

~ * ~

**That night:**

Before Ygraine put her son to sleep, she gave him a stuffed Merlin falcon toy she conjured with her own magic. The feathers were a bright blue with glints of gold, and she was especially pleased that the feathers felt like real feathers, soft and light. Though she could not see the finished result of her work, by her touch alone she could imagine how the toy falcon looked in her mind’s eye. That was good enough for her.

After pressing a kiss on to his brow, Ygraine set Arthur gently down in the crib. She placed the special toy beside him. Barely a day old, her son wouldn’t recognize what it even was, but Ygraine felt a sense of rightness that the toy would be with him on the day of his birth.

“The falcon will protect you, my sweetheart. And in your dreams, you will soar like a bird, and nothing will trouble you because you will be safe and free. Rest well, Arthur.”

She reached out her hand to brush aside some of her son’s blond hair. Taliesin had described Arthur’s appearance to her in great detail and she had carefully touched her son’s face to solidify the picture of him inside her mind. It wasn’t perfect, but for now, she was satisfied. At least she had the peace of mind that due to Arthur’s unique condition, he would be spared the fate everyone else in the land dealt with whether they wanted to or not. Gaining an often frustrating affliction was a fact of life in this magic poisoned land.

Queen Ygraine sighed. 

She left the nursery with a restless and grieving heart, thinking about the terrible loss of Nimueh. If her son was truly the prophesized Pristinely Ungifted one, then she dearly hoped he’d end the plague of afflictions before their magic poisoned land was destroyed by growing discontent and war.

~ * ~

Morgana knew it was wrong, but she was a member of the First Order. She was outside the bloody law, and if this was the way to get rid of her nasty affliction then she would do it. For seven years, since her sixteenth birthday, the magic poisoned land aged her beyond her years so that she was a wrinkled old witch that people avoided. 

But then Mystra, the supreme power to the wizards and witches of the First Order, had given her a solution. At the time, the saving hope for Morgana seemed impossible. After all, it had been centuries since there was a person born Pristinely Ungifted.

Yet Mystra had told her to be vigilant. That though the exact identity of this unique individual was unknown in the prophecies, on the day of the person’s birth, Morgana would know. 

And then she could act. Of course, before this auspicious day, she had made preparations for getting the child and setting up a place where they would live. 

So that when Morgana came into Arthur’s room in the middle of the night, the first night of the child’s life, she was ready.

She was quiet, walking slowly due to her cursed old age. She approached the crib. In her hand, she held the special necklace with her family emblem of the hazel tree as a pendant. 

Looking down into the crib, she saw him, barely a day old, and a white glow surrounding him if she focused her sight upon him. The white glow was outside proof that his blood was a powerful magic neutralizer. The child could never use magic or be affected by magic despite his mother, Queen Ygraine, being a sorceress – not one that was a part of the First Order – but still a magic user of respectable standing. 

Knowing delay was not an option, Morgana reached into the crib to grab the child, cradling him into her arms. Regret came over her as she thought of her son she gave up almost a year ago. 

About two years ago, she had found a spell to make her appear young for a day, and sought revenge on King Lot. He had treated her appallingly when he’d seen her as an old woman. 

So in her bespelled younger form, she was intimate with him and vowed that the son the act would create would kill his kingly father one day. Mystra had offered to care for her son, and it was an offer Morgana couldn’t refuse. If Mystra wanted something, then her orders had to be followed. There were other children of First Order bloodlines in Mystra’s service, so her son wouldn’t be alone. That was a small comfort. Morgana hoped that under Mystra’s guidance, her son would thrive and grow powerful enough to kill King Lot. 

Fortunately now, with Arthur in her care, she would finally have the chance to be a mother.

As she held him, the effects Mystra had said would happen did. Age fell away from her and she grew taller, her grey hair now returned to raven black and her skin smooth and unweathered. She was her true age of twenty-three, and she hoped that now she would age normally. She smiled, pleased. 

She was about to place the hazel tree necklace around the baby’s neck when he began to cry in her arms. 

“What is wrong?” Morgana whispered, feeling anxious because the baby’s cries could be heard and her scheme would fall apart.

She tried to hush him, singing a soft lullaby to him. She didn’t believe he was hungry or needed changing, no, it was something else.

“I wonder…” she mused.

She looked back into the crib and saw a stuffed Merlin falcon toy, likely magicked by Ygraine. What if that was it? Strange that a baby not even a day old would be attached to a toy already.

Morgana removed the toy from the crib and put it into the baby’s hands. She shot a quick glance at the door.

To her relief, Arthur quieted now that his favored toy was in his grasp. Morgana went to sit down in a nearby chair and she finally clasped the specially made necklace around the baby’s neck. The power was focused in the hazel tree pendant. She just had to make sure that Arthur wore the necklace at all times. 

Thanks to the necklace, she could make a quick escape with the baby. Not even bothering to stand up, she magically transported them away from the nursery, the toy still clutched in the little Arthur’s arms.

~ * ~

“My son is gone.” Ygraine said quietly.

Early that morning, when she had discovered the crib empty, her son and his toy vanished, she had fainted. 

The First Knight of Camelot, Sir Lancelot, had roused her. Now he was here with Taliesin in a small set of private chambers to discuss her son’s abduction. Thinking of it left a hole in her heart. First Nimueh had passed away suddenly and now her son had been taken. Ygraine hoped he was still alive. He just had to be. She could feel it.

“A member of the First Order must have taken him.” Taliesin voiced what Ygraine had already guessed.

“Those of the First Order believe themselves to be invincible, the most powerful beings in the land,” Sir Lancelot said with a nod.

“If that’s true, as I believe it is, then how are we to find my son? A First Order member – if they want something, they will get it and make sure no one will thwart them. Unless one favors death,” Queen Ygraine said in frustration.

“I will do what I can with the knights, Your Highness,” Sir Lancelot promised dutifully as always.

Ygraine felt bad for Lancelot due to his painful condition of the hands, his affliction caused by the poisoned land. It made wielding a sword hard on him. No matter how much he assured her he was fine, Ygraine could see through him. He had to wear leather gloves because when his hands were exposed, he had to seek Taliesin for a magic ointment. A chronic irritating affliction he may have, but Lancelot was her best knight despite that. No one matched him in his leadership ability and his steady command of the knights of Camelot.

“Thank you, Lancelot. I can only hope that since the toy was taken along with my son, then the culprit was not a heartless soul.”

“A good thought to have, My Lady. I can see if any friends of mine who are of the First Order have information about the young prince,” Taliesin suggested.

She gave each of them a small smile. Queen Ygraine was heartened by the support of her confidantes.

She would see her son again one day. To spare her heart breaking completely, Ygraine simply had to believe that.

~ * ~

**Five years later:**

“Mother, I don’t feel well,” said a five-year old Arthur.

Morgana beckoned him to her and she placed her hand over his brow. “Just a little fever, I can – wait, Arthur, where is your necklace?” she inquired of him when she realized the hazel tree pendant necklace was not on his neck.

Arthur bowed his head, looking sheepish. “I took it off…Falcon didn’t like it,” he told her. He didn’t meet her eyes and instead gazed at the floor.

Falcon was the name Arthur had chosen for the stuffed Merlin falcon toy because he thought it sounded impressive. It was a concern for her that sometimes Arthur treated the toy as an imaginary friend. Being so careful not to get caught, Morgana had kept Arthur sheltered and he didn’t have friends his own age as a result. So Morgana knew she could only blame herself, but if the wrong people got their hands on Arthur, he could be in terrible danger. The properties of his blood could lead some ruthless people to bleed him out completely and use his blood for protection against magic. 

Then there was the ridiculous prophecy that he would solve the problem of the land being poisoned by magic, putting an end to the afflictions. That was hard to conceive for Morgana because the problem was a very big one and one person just couldn’t simply solve it. Not that she personally cared too much since her affliction had been lifted.

Soon after she had kidnapped him, she’d settled him in a cottage within the outskirts of a sleepy village and bordering an expansive forest. She had picked out the exact cottage months before Arthur was born. Morgana wouldn’t even let her fellow First Order friends know about what she was doing. Only Mystra knew, but then again she was a goddess and nothing got past her.

“My little one, you know that it’s important to wear the necklace. Otherwise I can’t heal you with my magic so you feel better.”

Arthur nodded. “Yes, Mother.”

He went off to retrieve the necklace. 

And so with the necklace on, Morgana knelt down before him and healed him with her magic. “There you are. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Arthur said with a small smile.

Morgana returned the smile, and hugged him to her, ruffling his hair. “Now maybe you could convince Falcon to like the necklace.”

Arthur shrugged. “I don’t know. I think he’s angry with me.”

“Maybe a night’s rest will help him. Don’t lose hope, my love.”

Arthur nodded. “Okay, Mother.”

She kissed him on the head. “Go on then. Choose what you’d like me to read to you before bed,” Morgana suggested.

“I like it when you tell one of your stories…please, Mother?” He asked her earnestly. “One with Falcon?”

“Very well. I will do that.”

Arthur grinned at her. “I love you,” he said to her easily.

“I love you too,” Morgana replied with a fond smile.

~ * ~

Arthur was seventeen when his interest was piqued by the appearance of another cottage some feet away from his home. How odd that a dwelling could appear out of thin air like that. It must have been magically conjured. Maybe the resident of the neighbouring cottage was a magic user like his mother?

He sat in a chair beside the window that gave a direct view to this mystery cottage. Rubbing the hazel tree pendant on the chain he wore around his neck, Arthur thoughtfully considered the other dwelling and what sort of magic person lived there. Was the person a part of the First Order like his mother? Or another kind of wielder of magic?

“What do you think, Falcon? Man or woman?” Arthur asked out loud to his stuffed Merlin toy.

He knew he was too old to still keep a toy, but Falcon was different. There was something so comforting about him that Arthur couldn’t see himself getting rid of him any time soon.

Falcon just stared back at him from his place on the small round table in front of Arthur.

“You’re right. Must be a man.” Arthur said with a nod.

He rubbed his brow, sighing. He wished he could have a friend his age to talk to. Mother was protective of him, but at least these last few years, she allowed him to venture out into the forest alone. But Arthur never met anyone, only forest creatures. Though admittedly, it was nice to go for swim in the lake nestled pleasantly within the forest; practise with his sword (since he was determined to defend himself somehow if he couldn’t use magic) or less exciting, study books as a part of his educational studies. 

Still his feeling of loneliness plagued him.

When his mother came home, Arthur brought up the intriguing appearance of the cottage.

His mother looked in the direction Arthur was pointing to. He saw her blink in confusion.

“I can’t see it, dear. There’s no cottage there.”

“But then why can I?” Arthur wondered. 

His mother smiled lightly. “Well I suppose it’s because of your special gift. The house must be magically cloaked. You can see through that.”

“Of course,” Arthur said. 

He knew about being ‘Pristinely Ungifted’, but he didn’t find it all that special or impressive. He couldn’t do magic like his mother because of this gift or more like curse. What good was it? So what if he could see something that was otherwise magically hidden?

How boring.

“I want to know who lives there,” Arthur told her, curiosity gripping him. “The person is a magic user like you if the cottage is magically concealed.”

Morgana frowned slightly. “Yes, you’re right. Yet this newcomer could be dangerous. It would be wise to keep away from that house.”

“But Mother…” Arthur protested. He was a bit excited about the prospect of heading into danger.

“Arthur. I’m doing this for your safety,” she said firmly.

“I’m seventeen!” Arthur raised his voice, almost yelling. He wouldn’t back down this time. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions about where I want to go.”

His mother was still holding her ground. “And I’m your guardian and your elder. I’m only trying to keep you alive. You should be grateful you have someone who loves you like I do.”

“Yes I know, Mother. I understand. But you said magic that’s not yours can’t affect me, didn’t you? Then I’ll be safe from whoever this magic user is. They can’t use magic against me,” Arthur reasoned. 

“Very well, then,” his mother relented, to Arthur’s surprise. “Go. Since you can see it, you might as well satisfy your curiosity. Take your sword though.”

Arthur grinned, thanking her. He went to grab his sword and headed out of the cottage. 

“Don’t rush, sweetheart!” His mother called after him.

“I’ll be back soon,” Arthur said back to her.

With his sword in its sheath at his hip, Arthur went to the mystery dwelling.

~ * ~

There were two windows on either side of the door. Vivid blue, purple and red flowers were planted in front of the house. The flowers made Arthur wonder if a witch who was skilled gardener lived here. 

Cautiously, Arthur knocked on the door. He didn’t hear anyone come to answer. After knocking a second time with no answer and no noise coming from within, Arthur took a deep breath and let himself in. Fortunately the door just needed to be pushed open. Maybe it could have been magically locked, a security maneuver Arthur could overcome. Sometimes, he thought, being Pristinely Ungifted had its advantages. 

Even if it was wrong to intrude like this, Arthur wouldn’t let this opportunity pass him by. What if he returned home and his mother had a change of heart and forbid him to investigate who lived here?

No. It was now or never.

“Hello? I mean no harm… I’m Arthur. I live next door,” Arthur said out loud, wondering if he was just speaking to the empty air.

Someone had to live here. They simply had to be away from home at the moment.

In the cottage, the kitchen area complete with a big hearth was opposite the door, overtaking the whole far side of the dwelling. There was a door to his right which he believed led to private bedchambers since he saw a bit of the bed inside the room. A beautiful ornately-designed round table was positioned next to a side window on the home’s left side. On the table, there was a piece of parchment, but though it had writing on it, Arthur stopped himself from giving it a closer look. He was intruding enough. 

Focusing on the dark wooden table itself, he peered at the carving of a dragon breathing out a fiery phoenix gracing its top. Arthur soon realized the significance of this dragon and phoenix design upon seeing a small tapestry hanging on the wall near the table. The wall-hanging gave him proof that a member of the First Order, like his mother, lived here.

The tapestry had the same dragon breathing out a phoenix design, and the family name, ‘Emrys’ in big letters below it. 

He remembered his mother telling him that only certain magic users and their descending bloodlines could achieve an official First Order status. That status was granted upon successful completion of high-level magic tests. When man began to first walk the land, some humans were blessed with great magical power from the gods while others gained lesser magic or no magic at all. The ones granted great powers were then collectively known as the First Order of wizards and witches.

Dismally, Arthur knew that he’d never be considered for the First Order despite his mother. He couldn’t wield magic after all so his magic potential was zero. And he didn’t think there was anyone else like him in the land. His mother had told him that being Pristinely Ungifted was a very rare condition.

That always made Arthur feel more alone.

He shook his head, getting those sad thoughts out of his mind. On the positive, he had to say this person’s family emblem was very striking with the dragon and phoenix. More impressive than his mother’s hazel tree family emblem. Not that there was anything wrong with the hazel tree…it just didn’t make Arthur think of power and strength as he did when he looked at the dragon-phoenix symbol.

His eyes betraying him, he glanced at the parchment lying upon the table so innocuously. Looking at it closer, Arthur was concerned to see what looked like tear stains on the parchment. Or could it just be water?

It looked to be a letter, an old one judging by the yellowing.

Against his better judgment and no help from his curiosity, he read the letter,

_“My little bird,_

_I love you so much, my child. But I cannot help you now. Mystra will, she will save you. Be a good boy, okay? Listen to her and be good and kind, and you will be happy. I will always be with you in your heart._

_I know you are sad about your sister, but do not mourn Freya, my love. Do not worry. She is in a better place full of light and love. She’s an angel now, sweetheart. She’s your guardian angel, and don’t doubt that she’s watching over you._

_Good bye, my son._

_I love you._

_Mother”_

Arthur felt sorry for this family. The tragedy this letter conveyed made him hope that this son found peace after such loss. Arthur couldn’t imagine losing his family, meaning his mother – the only family he knew. He found this letter strange and wondered why the mother was saying goodbye. Why was she giving her son up to this Mystra? And where was the boy’s father during all this?

One thing was for certain. This son had to be the one living in this cottage, and this had to be an old letter that he still kept. The son must be an adult now.

“Excuse me,” said a masculine voice from behind him. He sounded angry. “Who are you and how did you get in here?”

Arthur swore. He turned around, raising his hands to show he wasn’t going to reach for his sword.

The man before him looked only a few years older than Arthur. In his early twenties at the most. He had dark hair like his mother yet his mother’s hair was graying now due to age. His eyes were blue like Arthur’s, but it was a different sort of blue. Like looking a bright blue glowing light with hints of gold mixed in. The colouring reminded him of Falcon and how his feathers were bright blue with some gold. Idly he contemplated if that similarity meant he was destined to meet this man. He was grateful at least that the other man seemed to be close to his age if a little older.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said immediately. “My name is Arthur… I know I entered without your permission. I’m sorry. Honestly.”

The man’s brilliant blue eyes narrowed. “I see. And how did you get in?”

“I’m uh, I’m Pristinely Ungifted,” Arthur said.

The man peered at him as if looking him over more carefully. “Magic neutralizer. What a nightmare,” he muttered under his breath.

“Sorry? I could leave…sorry again for trespassing. What’s your name though if I may ask?”

“Emrys,” the man answered, still appearing suspicious of Arthur.

“But I saw the tapestry. Isn’t that your family name?” Arthur pointed out, nodding at the tapestry.

“You came in without being invited, Arthur, so why should I give you my name?” Emrys retorted harshly.

“I understand. Nevermind. I’ll go.” Arthur turned to leave. 

“Good,” said Emrys.

Arthur wanted to ask him why he was so angry about the intrusion, but knew that wasn’t his place. Yes, he was in the wrong for abusing his Pristinely Ungifted ability and entering a home that had to be magically hidden for a reason. But the way Emrys was acting made Arthur wonder whether whatever this wizard was hiding from was serious. Serious enough to get annoyed with Arthur who was a stranger and not threatening him.

Before Arthur opened the door, he couldn’t resist bringing up the letter – to show his sympathy of the loss Emrys had suffered.

He turned around, stance cautious. “I wanted to say I’m sorry about the loss of your sister. I read the letter. I know I shouldn’t have, but it was just lying there.”

Arthur regretted saying anything when Emrys looked at him darkly then at the letter on the table. 

Emrys groaned. “I had spelled the letter so only I could read it. But yet here you are. A thorn in my side. Just leave.”

“Fine,” Arthur said curtly. 

His Pristinely Ungifted ability was getting him into trouble here. It was best to not make the situation worse than it already was.

He left feeling unhappy, but still curiosity kept him intrigued. Emrys was around his age, and a First Order member like his mother. Arthur wanted to know about Emrys even if the wizard clearly had problems and was, well, cold with him which Arthur felt he deserved after the trespassing. Yet still… something drew him to the wizard. The man with blue eyes that reminded him of Falcon.

~ * ~

Merlin sat at his table, covering his face in his hands and feeling so tired all of a sudden. He felt awful for acting that way toward that man, Arthur. But he was trying to avoid meeting new people now. It was just easier and less painful.

And it was just his luck that this Arthur happened to be Pristinely Ungifted. There was only one person known in the land to be Pristinely Ungifted – the Lost Prince of Camelot. So they had to be one and the same.

He sighed as he took the letter in his hand, reading it over again like he had over the past ten years. Merlin had memorized the letter yet it still made his heart ache each time he read it.

_My little bird,_

_I love you so much, my child. But I cannot help you now. Mystra will, she will save you._

He remembered. 

**Ten years ago:**

“No! I want to stay with my mum,” A ten-year old Merlin exclaimed.

He clutched his mother’s dead body. She was the last family he had left and he couldn’t leave her. He couldn’t.

Mystra kept trying to pull him away. “Merlin, there’s nothing you can do for her. Your mother loved you. She would want you to be safe. We live in a dangerous world and I’m only seeking to protect you. Please, my child.” She finished gently. 

Merlin wiped his tears, choking back a sob. He let Mystra pull him away and embrace him in her arms. 

“I don’t want to be like my father,” Merlin said quietly. 

“Your father was afflicted. He was not himself. He loved all of you – you, your mother and Freya – very much. That never changed. But I promise you that you won’t have the same…ailment your poor father had.”

Merlin nodded sullenly. “Okay,” he said softly. “Thank you, My Lady.”

He took her hand and allowed Mystra to lead him away from his mother, the letter his mother wrote to him clutched in Merlin’s hand. The letter was stained with his tears and he was torn between ripping it apart in unhappiness at losing his mother and keeping it forever. 

*

In Mystra’s magically protected territory, Merlin feared he would be alone during his time under Mystra’s care.

But his concerns were left unfounded when an eight-year old dark-haired boy approached him. The boy had piercing green eyes that captured Merlin’s attention.

“Hello, I’m Mordred,” the boy said with a smile. “My mother is of the Le Fay family, but she gave me up so I have never met her,” the boy explained, sounding not too bothered by his mother’s actions. Or maybe he just hid it very well. “What’s your name?” Mordred asked as he sat down on the grass beside Merlin.

“Hi, my name is Merlin,” he told him. He paused a long moment, thoughts of his father pained him. “My father is of the Emrys family,” Merlin informed him with a shrug.

“Oh! You have that dragon-phoenix family emblem? That’s one of my favorites,” Mordred said.

Merlin nodded. He didn’t feel too excited about his family symbol. Anything to do with his family was hard to think about. He wished he still had his family and wasn’t so alone in the world now.

“Your symbol is the hazel tree, isn’t it?” Merlin brought up, deliberately moving the conversation away from his own family.

Mordred nodded. “Do you want to be friends?” He asked him, sounding uncertain like Merlin would reject his offer.

“Okay,” Merlin said easily.

He could use at least one friend. Mordred was his best hope.

~ * ~

**Now:**

“Merlin?”

Merlin looked up to find Mordred before him.

“I can’t stay hidden forever,” Merlin said. “They’ll find me, and kill me. And then with my affliction…”

Merlin looked down to find his hands shaking.

Mordred rested his hands over Merlin’s to still them. Merlin felt only slightly better at the touch. “I know your affliction is a new development, but I think you can still work around it.” Mordred said optimistically.

Merlin huffed. “I almost wish I had your affliction instead.”

“You’d hate it,” Mordred said lightly.

Merlin didn’t feel like answering that. Mordred was right anyway.

Mordred told him to get up then, that it wasn’t helping to sit there feeling miserable. Merlin let himself be pulled up by Mordred.

He idly wondered if that Arthur would return to visit him. Despite him being Pristinely Ungifted and making Merlin look like an idiot as he easily got past all his magical spells, Merlin had to admit he was attracted to the blond man. Arthur appeared to be a few years younger than him, and maybe a bit naïve, but Mystra help him, Merlin wanted to see more of that man.

Even if his affliction would make a mess of things. Merlin knew he had to be grateful for not having a worse affliction like his father had. Sometimes feeling that gratitude was hard, but he hoped that with time he would come to make peace with his predicament.

~ * ~

Arthur didn’t want to tell his mother about his time at the other cottage. He felt he’d made a mess of the situation enough by intruding when Emrys clearly wanted him to go. 

But…

What if he visited tomorrow? Maybe today the wizard had been in a bad mood. If Arthur tried again, making sure to only come in if Emrys allowed him, then their second meeting could make up for the near disaster of today.

“How was it, Arthur?” Morgana asked him as they ate dinner.

Arthur shrugged. “All right, I suppose. He’s a part of the First Order like you. But he’s a private person. Told me he’d prefer to be left alone.”

“Did he tell you his name?” she asked him.

Arthur shook his head. “He didn’t.” And technically it was true since Emrys hadn’t given him his first name. 

“Okay, well, we can only respect his wishes. It’s best you don’t visit him again,” his mother advised.

Arthur nodded, though inside, he knew he would be unable to resist seeing the man again. There was something about Emrys, and Arthur wouldn’t ignore that gut feeling. He had to see him again, it was that simple.

Even if Emrys might force him to leave again, Arthur wouldn’t be deterred.

~ * ~

Late in the night, Morgana was deep in the forest before she found him. All around her was quiet, too quiet, with only the odd hoot of an owl and the crinkling of leaves as she walked.

Her son was sitting before a big fire, and he didn’t look back even though he must have heard her approach.

“Mordred,” she said in a near whisper. 

“Leave me alone, please,” he said, still not directing his gaze at her. 

Morgana noticed how intensely Mordred was looking into the fire – as if staring at it hard enough would will the flames to reveal their secrets.

“I just want to talk to you, look at you,” Morgana said earnestly. “I have not seen you since you were small enough to hold in my arms. And I thought I would never see you again, but here you are. I heard there’s another member of the First Order living outside the forest, not far from where I live. Imagine my surprise when I sensed my own son nearby.”

Mordred didn’t say anything.

“Now I would guess that member is your friend? I would have sensed you sooner if you’d been living there. So I would assume you were visiting and live elsewhere.”

“I’m on my way home, and I don’t want to talk to you,” Mordred said, his tone firm.

Finally Mordred looked at her. Morgana saw that he had inherited her green eyes, eyes that flared like green fire as he looked upon her.

Morgana sat down beside him. She reached out her hand to touch his cheek. Mordred flinched and shifted away from her.

“Sweetheart…”

“Don’t,” Mordred said. “You’re not my mother, you’re just the woman who gave birth to me. And Mystra told me, don’t think she didn’t. How you wanted me to be a weapon, to kill my father. A King I don’t even know. Don’t lie to me now. I know I’m a weapon to you, not your son. Just go.”

“Mordred, that’s not true,” she defended, but paused when Mordred shot a disbelieving glare at her. “I was younger then,” Morgana changed tact. “I was very unhappy with my affliction, and I wanted Lot to pay for treating me terribly just because I looked old. I loved you from the moment you were born… you were never just a weapon. You are my son, my only trueborn son.”

“Go away, or I’ll make you leave,” Mordred said, not moved by her words. 

Morgana was sad to know her son hated her so. Maybe if she had fought Mystra on the point of keeping her son, getting the chance to raise him, then Mordred would care for her as she cared for him. But to go against Mystra had been unthinkable. Morgana had felt like she had no choice then.

“Do you have an affliction?” Morgana asked. 

She hoped he didn’t, but no one could escape the curse of the affliction unless he was Pristinely Ungifted like Arthur. 

“Yes.”

“Well you look all right.” Morgana pointed out, grateful at least that her son hadn’t been given a physical deformity or been prematurely aged as she had. The magic poisoned land could be particularly unforgiving to some with the afflictions it forced upon them. 

“It’s not one easily seen. I’ve had it for as long as I can remember. I’ve become used to it,” Mordred said nonchalantly, shrugging it off.

“I’m sorry you’ve had it for so long…if there was anything I could have done to spare you from the pain,” Morgana said.

“Please, I’d like to be alone,” Mordred said. 

Morgana couldn’t leave without embracing him. He let her take him into her arms, and he relaxed only a little upon the contact.

She kissed him on top of the head, happy and relieved that her son resembled her more than his wretched father. It was a blessing to look at him, and to see her green eyes in her own child.

“Take care of yourself,” Morgana told her son as she pulled out of the embrace.

He only glanced at her, nodding slightly. “Goodbye.”

Morgana left her son with a heavy heart. She knew that he’d probably never call her Mother, but at least this meeting was a start.

~ * ~

Arthur knew he had an opportunity to see Emrys again the next day after breakfast. That was when his mother usually went to the market. 

He decided not to take his sword, thinking it’d look better if he wasn’t so obviously armed. Instead, he took two daggers, one up his sleeve, sheathed and in a holster, and another on his leg. 

After saying goodbye to Falcon, Arthur left home and headed to Emrys’s cottage.

He knocked on the door, feeling anxious as he waited for a response.

A few moments later, but what felt like an eternity, the door opened.

Emrys stood before him. But what puzzled Arthur was the lack of recognition on the wizard’s face as if he didn’t remember him.

“How did you see this place?” Emrys first asked, looking as confused as Arthur. And very concerned as well. That was odd, Arthur thought. Should he remember Arthur telling him about his ability? “I thought I had done a strong enough invisibility charm.”

“Hi…it’s me. Arthur. I visited yesterday?” Arthur told him. “Magic doesn’t affect me.”

Emrys’s eyes widened. “Oh I see now. You’re Arthur, the one who is Pristinely Ungifted. Sorry. I hit my head yesterday after you left. Memories are all a mess. Come in, Arthur,” he said graciously.

What Arthur didn’t miss was the lack of recognition still present on Emrys’s face, as if he was missing his memories of the day before, which was crazy to Arthur. How did a wizard of the First Order have memory problems? They were supposed to hold great power after all like his mother did.

“I’m sorry again about intruding yesterday,” Arthur brought up. 

Emrys nodded absentmindedly. “Oh yes. Well no harm done…”

He went to the same round table Arthur had seen the letter at. The old letter was now gone and there was a journal on the table.

Arthur looked over and saw the journal said, “My memories.” He didn’t want to ask Emrys about it because if there was a chance the journal title had been magically concealed, then it would be like yesterday. And he didn’t want to Emrys to get annoyed with him again. Arthur wanted to be friends with this man no matter how strangely he acted.

Arthur also suspected that based on the journal title, Emrys was lying to him about hitting his head. It was something bigger than that and more concerning.

“Sit down, why don’t you? I was just writing in my journal…should have put it away. Very dull, but it’s good to write down your thoughts. To reflect sometimes.”

Emrys took the journal and made it magically disappear, to a place for safe-keeping Arthur guessed.

Arthur nodded as he sat down. He was suspecting another little lie though. But it wasn’t his place to intrude on Emrys’s private business. “Yeah, I understand.”

Emrys smiled. “Thank you. Would you like something to drink?” He asked as he moved to the hearth, and filled two cups with hot water from a pot he took from above the fire. He put a few herbs into the tea and set the cups down upon the table, sitting down himself across from Arthur.

“I’d like that.” Arthur said. “I was wondering what your name is? You only told me your name was Emrys, but that’s your family name, isn’t it?” 

“My name is Merlin. Why didn’t I tell you that the other day?”

Arthur thought it just couldn’t be a coincidence that Falcon was a Merlin bird, and now this wizard went by Merlin. What if he was destined to meet this man?

“I think you were having a bad day,” Arthur told him. “I know I wasn’t helping when I’d come in when you’d have rather been without company.” 

Arthur sipped the tea then, finding the tea pleasantly sweet, as if sweet berries put into the tea. He wondered just what sort of herbs Merlin used, and if they were magically enhanced.

Merlin shrugged. “That’s a shame then. As you can see, I’m feeling better today. Though I should tell you I’ll be leaving tomorrow. In case you decide to visit again.”

“You’re leaving? Why? You just arrived here yesterday? That’s sudden.”

“I suppose even one day here by myself isn’t working for me. I don’t like being alone. I thought it’d be better to stay with a good friend of mine. He’s like a brother to me and he’s agreed to letting me stay with him. I don’t know what possessed me to come here…anyway…” Merlin trailed off.

“I was hoping to spend more time with you,” Arthur told him. “I wish you weren’t leaving.”

Merlin was somewhat of a mystery Arthur wished to solve, but now he would be unable to if he wouldn’t see him again.

Merlin smiled. “I can tell you that I may return in a few months’ time in the autumn. That’s five months away. Not long at all.”

“My birthday will be around that time, in the autumn. I’ll be eighteen.”

“I’ll try to be back by then.” Merlin told him.

“I hope you do. Thanks for telling me you were leaving at least,” Arthur said.

Arthur hated this now. He had hoped he could see more of Merlin, but now the strange wizard was leaving the very next day after Arthur first met him. It was disappointing and frustrating. But Arthur couldn’t convince him to stay. Merlin would be better off with this close friend of his over Arthur whom he had just met.

Barely knowing the man, he had little to persuade Merlin to stay. He only had a desperate plea that he had no friends and that he saw the potential in striking up a friendship with Merlin.

Arthur said his goodbyes, and Merlin gave him early birthday wishes. It left Arthur both happy to have him as a friend and confused about the memory loss that Merlin appeared to have.

~ * ~

That night Arthur had a strange dream. He was in a small brightly-lit circular room. A beautiful woman with long white hair and pale blue eyes approached him, a warm smile reaching her eyes. Her silken blue gown flowed as she walked. Arthur didn’t fail to notice the big rose-coloured stone ring upon her finger, the stone as round as marble.

“Arthur Pendragon, my child, it’s so good to meet you finally. I am Mystra, leader of the First Order.”

“I was wondering who you were since I saw your name. But I don’t understand. My mother is of the same Order, and she never mentioned you.”

“I asked her not to… I knew one day I would see you and I could formally introduce myself. Your time is coming, Arthur, so I’m here to speak to you in this dream.”

“My time? Does this have to do with me being Pristinely Ungifted?” he guessed, knowing how rare the condition was.

Mystra nodded. “Yes, my dear. You are not aware of the afflictions plaguing the land, I assume? Your gift has protected you from such a curse.”

Arthur shook his head. “I’ve never heard of them. What are they?”

“Many centuries ago, a misguided wizard of the First Order believed that putting more magic into the land would benefit all humankind. Unfortunately he did not realize that over time, the magic would poison the land and turn on humans… forcing afflictions on everyone. No one can predict when they will gain an affliction; just that it is inevitable, making the waiting a terrible affair. Some may simply die before their time. I knew a witch who was untouched by an affliction for years. Yet her untimely demise was what the poisoned land cursed her with.”

“So the problem is magic?”

“No,” she told him gently. “The problem is there is too much magic saturating the land. The magic levels are too high. What needs to be done is to return the magic to healthier levels. We still need magic to keep the land thriving. We still need my kind, of the First Order, to remain guardians of magic. Only you can heal the land and cure those with afflictions. And for children yet to be born, they can be spared the pain of afflictions plaguing their parents.”

“Wait…these afflictions; do they affect those of the First Order too?” Arthur asked.

He thought of Merlin and his memory loss.

“Yes. No one is safe except for a Pristinely Ungifted one like you. A wizard is just as subject to the affliction as a person who does not possess magic.”

“These afflictions… what can they be? Could one of them be memory loss?” Arthur wondered.

Mystra looked at him knowingly, like she was aware of why he had brought up memory loss. Did she know he had met Merlin? 

“Yes, memory loss is an affliction one could receive from the land. Afflictions can be a range of different conditions. While some are problems of the mind like memory loss, there are also physical deformities and ailments. Some deal with painful conditions for the rest of their lives. No one can rightly predict what affliction they will get, if it will be one they could live with or one that would drive them to end their lives.”

Arthur thought that was horrible and to imagine all the children not even born yet, who hadn’t done anything to deserve such a curse, would be afflicted. He had to do something to stop this. If Mystra said that he could help, then Arthur would do his best to rid the land of these afflictions.

“What must I do?” Arthur wanted to know.

“You need to gain a special key, a key freely given to you by its keeper.”

“Okay. Could you tell me where to find this keeper?” 

Mystra gave him a small smile. “All I can tell you is that key is in the possession of an innocent soul. Someone you know will lead you to where you must go. His name is Merlin, of the Emrys family.”

“He told me he was leaving tomorrow though,” Arthur pointed out.

“That is not a problem. It won’t be until your eighteenth year that you can undertake the finding of the key. There is power in age, and for you, this is no exception. Merlin told you he will return. You can trust that he will come back when the time is right. You and he are meant to be by each other’s side. It is fated, a bond unlike any other. Now I shall leave you, Arthur. Fare well.”

With those last words from her, Mystra faded away from Arthur’s view. The dream ended leaving Arthur with a peaceful dreamless sleep for the rest of the night.

~ * ~

The next morning, Arthur decided to ask his mother if she had an affliction or if she hadn’t gained one yet. Arthur had never noticed anything peculiar about his mother to be deemed as one of these dreaded afflictions. So maybe she had been spared for now?

“I spoke with Mystra in my dreams last night. She told me about these afflictions. Do you know anything about them? Do you have one?” Arthur asked her, seeing how his mother froze and looked rather uneasy when he brought up the afflictions.

“Mother?” Arthur spoke again in concern when she didn’t respond. 

She smiled weakly and sat down across from him.

“I’m glad that Mystra has spoken to you. I’ll be honest with you, my son; unfortunately I did have an affliction.”

“But how did it go away? Mystra told me the afflictions lasted until you died.”

“I was lucky,” his mother explained simply. Then she continued when Arthur nodded for her to speak further, “When I turned sixteen, I was aged beyond my years. I feared I would die from the affliction, from the pains of old age. It hurt to know that I should have had decades yet to live, and yet all those years were forcibly taken from me.”

“But you were able to find a cure?”

His mother nodded. “I learned that you would help me, simply by your presence, to reverse my condition and return me to my rightful age. Your birth saved my life. I was able to age normally once again.”

“If I was able to help you, then could I do the same with others who have these afflictions?”

“I do not know, sweetheart. I was lucky that my affliction was solved because of you, but other afflictions may require a different remedy.”

“I wish I could help somehow,” Arthur voiced with a sigh. While he knew from Mystra that when he was eighteen, he would be able to make things better, it was a shame he couldn’t do it now.

His mother smiled at him lightly. “I know, my dear. But you shouldn’t trouble yourself with matters that don’t affect you. Worrying too much will make you ill.”

Arthur nodded. “Thank you for…you know, telling me about your affliction.”

“Yes, of course.”

He spent most of the day outside. Though he saw Merlin’s dwelling still there, Arthur didn’t dare go inside. Merlin was gone by now, he was sure, and if he went and checked then he’d have it confirmed.

Five months until he would see the mysterious wizard again.

When everything would change, Arthur didn’t doubt that.

~ * ~

**One week later:**

Merlin was sitting in a chair by a window, staring unseeingly ahead of him, and appearing to be deep in thought. Mordred took note of the dark circles under Merlin’s eyes from a lack of sleep. In his hands, Merlin clutched the journal full of his memories of the month his amnesia had made him forget. Mordred had just managed to stop Merlin from burning the journal the other day. According to Merlin, writing down things before he forgot them only made the situation worse. That he’d never get those memories back where he wanted them – in his mind. 

“It’s been a month now since you’ve been afflicted, Merlin. Not sleeping won’t stop the sun from rising.”

“You never know, it might,” Merlin said stubbornly. He threw the journal across the room. “I  
hate reading that journal…it’s like I’m reading about someone else’s life. It’s useless. What I felt, what I thought at the time… nothing.”

“A few more months and you’ll get used to it. The journal is the best thing you have to help you through this,” he reminded Merlin as he picked up the journal and returned it to him. “You should be grateful that you were spared your father’s affliction.”

“And that makes me feel terrible…that I’m complaining about this when I could’ve had a lot worse. But… what if I still could become as paranoid as my father? If it could be an inherited condition as well as his affliction?”

“You won’t. Believe me, Merlin. That’ll never happen,” said Mordred firmly. “You’re the last person who would lose yourself like that. You have your affliction now, and you should be happy that it’s something you can live with.”

“That it won’t destroy my life as it did with my father,” Merlin finished dismally.

Merlin sighed. He didn’t speak for what seemed like a long time. But Mordred could tell that Merlin wanted to say something more.

“In the journal, I wrote about a man I met. He was a little younger than me, and I think he’s important, Mordred,” he told him, but then he frowned. “Of course any sane person will grow weary of my problem and leave… and he deserves that. I just…based on what I wrote; I’d hate it if he left, if he gave up on me. I’ll never properly know him,” Merlin said, frustrated.

“What’s his name?” Mordred asked.

Merlin shrugged, idly turning the pages of his journal. “Arthur, I think.”

“Listen, if this Arthur cares about you, then he will stay. If he doesn’t give you a chance, then he isn’t worthy of you.”

“I wish I could believe that,” Merlin said, sounding hopeless, Mordred’s words not quite having the effect he wanted.

“That’s it. I’m going to have you drink a sleeping potion even if I have to force it down your throat. You will get a full night’s sleep, and you will stop dreading the sunrise and instead embrace your affliction. Living with your amnesia will get better. While I’ve never known life without my affliction, I understand what it is to yearn for what you’ve lost…or for what you never had in the first place in my case. Everyone who has an affliction knows this suffering, Merlin. You are not alone. You just have to be brave and don’t let this ruin your life. Please. For me.” Mordred almost pleaded with him.

“I’ll try,” Merlin said after a long moment. “I will do my best.”

Mordred counted that as a good start.

**Five months later:**

“Mother, I’m going to see the sunrise,” Arthur told her.

He kissed her on the cheek before leaving. 

“Happy birthday, my dear. Eighteen years. I can’t believe time passed by so quickly,” she said, sighing wistfully.

Arthur embraced her and then he went on his way. It had become a tradition these last few years to wake up before dawn to see the sun rise on the anniversary of his birth. The sight never failed to fill him with hope and belief in a brighter tomorrow, that the next year would be a good one.

Of course he made sure he took Falcon with him. Arthur climbed a tree and kept Falcon grasped in one hand. He peered up at the sky and watched it lighten with warm golds, reds and yellows. 

And that was when the world surrounding him changed.

~ * ~

“What is going on? Do you know, Pip?” Sir Lancelot asked the Faery prince who rested upon his shoulder. 

He surveyed the suddenly white sky and the entire land around him turning white as if by a magical spell.

The young prince flew down off his shoulder, his delicate wings glinting with a light not unlike starlight. He landed on the ground and pressed his tiny hands to it, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

“I think the magic levels in the land have decreased,” he concluded. “It’s still at undesirable levels but lower than before. It’s a start at least. Only one person could do such a thing.”

“A Pristinely Ungifted one,” Lancelot answered, understanding. “So our hope was not in vain. Prince Arthur yet lives. The Queen will be glad to hear the news.”

“Yes. And he has turned eighteen. This act on his birthday is just the beginning. Soon, if all goes well, magic will no longer be poisoning the land. Afflictions will be a thing of the past. You’ll be cured, Lancelot,” Pip said with a smile. 

“I hope so,” he said with a sigh, flinching as the pain in his glove-covered hands flared up.

Now, eighteen years after the prince’s kidnapping, Lancelot found little relief from keeping his hands covered. Even the powerful magic ointment didn’t provide him the long-lasting respite from pain he so yearned for. The only thing he could do is to stay true to his knights training and bear the pain as well as he could. There were worse pains than this, he knew. He felt proud of the fact that he had managed to live with this daily pain and still do his knightly duties. Though some days he had been tempted to cut off his hands for the relief, but Lancelot never succumbed to that temptation.

Fortunately too, the sixteen-year old Pip proved to be a welcome companion though he was only as tall as Lancelot’s longest finger. He helped Lancelot to be more positive when his affliction sometimes made him gloomier than he would’ve liked. 

Due to Queen Ygraine’s alliance two years ago with the Faery kingdom, the Faery King offered the assistance of his youngest son, one of his many children, as a guide for Lancelot. While he served a sorceress Queen, Lancelot himself was not magic, but he did sympathize with those who possessed magic. So he was grateful to have Pip as a guide in all things magical by his side.

His attention was diverted when he felt the Faery return to his shoulder, concealing himself behind his ear. Lancelot didn’t miss Pip’s anxious expression.

“It’s a gremlin,” Pip said quietly. “Almost half of my Father’s kingdom has been killed by them. Ever since the afflictions began long ago, the gremlins have been thriving…”

Lancelot looked ahead of him, finally seeing the gremlin appear before his eyes. An unpleasant grin graced the creature’s face. “Come out, come out wherever you are,” said the gremlin.

He was a blue winged creature with dark glowing eyes. “You Faeries are so dull…never want to play.” The gremlin let out a cold laugh.

“Come closer, and you’ll know death,” said Lancelot as the troublesome creature set his sights on the knight.

“Aren’t you the knight harboring a Faery prince? I can fetch a nice price for one of those, even more for a dead one.” The gremlin remarked, looking amused with himself as he snickered.

Lancelot felt Pip trembling a little on his shoulder. The Faery had become invisible.

“A lot of foolhardiness you have facing the First Knight of Camelot,” said Lancelot.

“But I have magic, and you do not,” said the gremlin, sounding far too smug.

“Look around you. The land is white. A Pristinely Ungifted one is in our midst. I doubt you’d feel so confident facing such a being,” Lancelot pointed out, smiling slightly as the gremlin’s eyes widened, realizing the potential threat he might have to deal with.

Then the gremlin froze.

“Just kill him,” said Pip tiredly. “Please.”

Lancelot took out his dagger and cut off the creature’s head, the gremlin falling to the ground like an overgrown fly.

“Are you okay, Pip?” he asked him, seeing Pip reappear. The Faery flew to Lancelot’s open palm so he could face him properly. 

“I’ve been better… it’s just when I was growing up, my older brothers told stories of close encounters with gremlins. One of my brothers was murdered by the gremlins when I was younger. They ripped him apart like animals…no shred of decency.”

Lancelot heard the anger underlying Pip’s words, the frustration he clearly felt about the terrible way his brother was killed.

“I’m sorry, Pip.”

Pip sighed, tracing the lifelines on Lancelot’s palm. “Thanks. I try not to let the fear overwhelm me…but it’s hard,” he admitted. “We should look for Queen Ygraine’s son. It’d be good to focus on that… hopefully no more gremlins will be about.”

“If there will be any, I’ll make sure nothing happens to you,” Lancelot promised.

Pip looked grateful, but Lancelot didn’t miss the worry still hanging over him.

~ * ~

Arthur didn’t know what to make of everything – from the sky above to the ground below and even the trees – suddenly turning a pure white colour.

Had he done this? His mother had told him in the past that he had a white glow surrounding him if one looked over him with a careful eye. Arthur expected that’s what Merlin saw too when he determined that Arthur had magic neutralizing abilities.

If Mystra said that he’d be able to change things upon his eighteenth birthday, then maybe this could be the start. Arthur headed home, planning to discuss this with his mother.

But when he neared the cottage, he was shocked to find his mother on the ground gasping for breath. Arthur rushed to her, dropping his pack with Falcon inside on the way.

“Mother?” He said in shock and deep worry. Was his mother dying?

Arthur collapsed beside her, grasping her hand.

“My time with you is at an end,” his mother said softly as she struggled to breathe.

“No, no. Don’t say that. I still need you.” Arthur assured her, desperation in his tone. 

“I love you… I am sorry. Falcon was given to you by your true mother. I took him because you were crying, and he calmed you. Know that I loved you as a son, Arthur…please forgive me.”

“Mother? No, please, don’t leave me.”

It was too late. His mother was gone, dying before Arthur had a chance to process her confession.

Did his mother just admit to not being his real mother? And if she had been seeking forgiveness, then… did that mean that he’d been kidnapped?

Arthur didn’t know how to feel. Even if his mother – or who he had always seen as his mother – had actually been his kidnapper, Arthur couldn’t erase eighteen years of caring and affection she’d shown him. She had treated him like her own son, and Arthur had never thought to question his mother was truly his mother. Despite him being Pristinely Ungifted and his mother being a First Order witch, Arthur had just put that down to his gift being so rare that there were no rules about whether or not his parents should possess magic.

His head hurt as he was torn between deep betrayal by his mother and a numb aching grief at losing the only person who had been a constant, comforting presence in his life.

Before he’d met Merlin, Arthur had a nagging worry that he’d never fit in if he ventured out into the greater world when he had to leave his mother. Fortunately there was something about Merlin that gave Arthur the confidence to face the future. That with Merlin by his side, he could survive the uncertainty of a life without his mother. Curiosity gripped him whenever he thought of Merlin, and Arthur had to satisfy it.

Now though, Arthur knelt beside his mother’s dead body. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to go on after losing his mother?

“Arthur?” said a voice Arthur hadn’t heard in a while.

Merlin had returned. 

Arthur turned his head, looking up to see the wizard he hadn’t laid eyes upon in months. 

Merlin sat down beside him, a sombre look in his blue eyes. “I am sorry for the loss of your mother,” he said quietly yet Arthur didn’t miss the uncertainty in his tone. 

Merlin had never met Arthur’s mother after all, so he wasn’t completely sure of how she looked like.

“I don’t even know how it happened, or why… and everything’s gone white,” Arthur said, then he finally gave a proper look at his surroundings. 

The peculiar whiteness that had overcome the land had gone. Everything was its usual colour. 

Merlin nodded. “Yes, I saw the white. It went away a few moments ago. Arthur, I think someone is looking for you…but we need to find the key Mystra told you about. I can help you with that. But we can’t let this person find you, not yet.”

“My mother made a confession,” Arthur told him, still unable to quite grasp his mother’s words before she died. “I don’t think she’s my real mother. I think she took me without permission…”

“She was telling the truth. I’m sorry. I would have told you once we got to know each other better. I don’t feel like I’m the right person to tell you this.”

“What is it? Who’s my real mother?” Arthur demanded to know. “My mother told me that I helped to cure her affliction. I should have realized then that it could have meant she had been desperate enough to… to…” Arthur stopped. 

He found it hard to say the words out loud. To say that the woman he had seen as his mother for all his life was truly his kidnapper. She had stolen him so she could be rid of her premature aging affliction. True, it was a terrible fate and he couldn’t fault her for taking advantage of her only hope of a longer life…but kidnapping was still wrong. Arthur had lost the chance to be raised by the woman who’d given birth to him because of it. 

“You are the son of Queen Ygraine of Camelot,” Merlin informed him.

Arthur stared at him. “My real mother is a Queen?” 

Merlin nodded. “You’re still the sole heir to Camelot’s throne too. The Queen misses you very much. She loves you dearly, I don’t doubt it. And you will be able to see her again when the time is right.”

“We need to cure the land. Get the key,” Arthur finished, understanding. 

“Unless you really want to go see the Queen first. It’s your right to see her, reunite with her. I won’t stop you.”

“I do want to see her. So much,” Arthur admitted. “But healing the land, ending the afflictions…it’s more important. It’d be nice to see my true mother after I’ve accomplished this. She’ll be proud of me…even if she doesn’t really know me, but…”

“I’m sure she’ll be proud just seeing you alive and well before her eyes. Yet the sooner we fix this land, the better. And many people will be grateful to you.”

“I hope this will work,” Arthur said. 

He went to collect his pack. Arthur heard the sound of a person approaching from the forest. 

“Get all you need for our journey,” Merlin urged him. “I’m under glamour now, which you can’t see. You’ll just have to believe me. The First Knight of Camelot is looking for you, but I know how to send him away. Then I’ll meet you.”

“What about my mother’s body?”

“She has a son, a natural-born son, Mordred…he’ll take care of her in the way a First Order member is traditionally dealt with after death.”

Arthur felt annoyed. Finding out his mother was his kidnapper wasn’t enough; he had to learn she had a son of her own blood too. 

“Goodbye, Mother,” Arthur said. 

He knelt down and kissed her on the brow. He couldn’t let bitterness overwhelm him. Regret at not saying his goodbyes to the woman he had long seen as his mother would be far worse. And he couldn’t think ill of the dead. That was wrong.

“Thank you for caring for me and for loving me. I…forgive you,” he said softly, finding those last words hard to form.

Then he left her and Merlin, returning home just as the knight appeared, emerging from the forest.

Merlin intercepted him. Arthur had gone inside his cottage before Merlin started speaking with the knight. 

Instead, Arthur went to his bed and lay down on it, feeling terribly lost and hoping Merlin would be enough of an anchor to pull him through this confusing time. 

A small, evil thought wormed its way into his mind. Had he been living a lie all these years then? He had been raised by his kidnapper…how could he even begin to make peace with that? 

Maybe he hadn’t truly forgiven his mother after all.

~ * ~

“Hey,” Merlin said. “Not feeling well?”

“After all I’ve just learned? How am I supposed to accept the truth? That my mother kidnapped me?”

“I know it’s a lot to take, but she must have truly cared for if she kept you for eighteen years. She didn’t keep you a prisoner. There are far worse people than your mother in the world.”

Arthur sighed, sitting up in bed. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. And I guess this necklace won’t work any longer since she’s gone.”

Yet he didn’t have the heart to take off the hazel tree pendant necklace. Because that would mean his mother had truly passed away. Maybe now it would remain as a final physical memory of his mother. He had a feeling he’d regret it if he threw away the necklace no matter how conflicted his perception of his mother was now.

“What sort of necklace is it?”

“It’s a magical one. My mother used it to heal me magically when I was sick or hurt. I think it only worked with her.”

“Even if you’re Pristinely Ungifted, it still worked?” Merlin said.

“Yes,” Arthur acknowledged.

“Can I see it?” Merlin asked. “You don’t have to take it off…just…” he trailed off, kneeling in front of Arthur.

Arthur obliged him, lifting the hazel tree pendant from underneath his tunic. “The power is centered in the pendant.”

Merlin touched the pendant, looking it over thoughtfully. “Very powerful. It’s meant for one person to use it. And for this pendant, that was reserved only to your mother while she was alive as you know. Your condition can’t allow for more no matter what.”

He let go off the pendant, giving Arthur a small smile. With Merlin so close to him now, Arthur was taken in by how blue Merlin’s eyes were.

“Can another one be made? A pendant that will give you the ability to heal me by magic means?” Arthur wondered. 

Merlin frowned, standing up. “It’ll take too much time to make one, and you wouldn’t want me being able to use magic on you.”

Arthur looked at him in disbelief. “I don’t see you as the sort to abuse the power.”

“I don’t even trust myself. It’s better this way,” Merlin said firmly.

“Okay. I don’t agree with you, but I’ll let that go for now. Where can we find the key I need?” Arthur wondered. “I know the keeper is an innocent soul.”

“That undoubtedly means a child. I’m certain the key will be in Ealdor.”

“Ealdor? Is that a village?”

“It’s the village where I was born,” Merlin told him quietly, an undertone of unhappiness in his voice. Arthur was left with the conclusion that Merlin’s old home village wasn’t a place full of fond memories for the wizard.

Another mystery about him. Arthur recalled the letter he’d read in which Merlin’s mother had to let Merlin go, to be put into Mystra’s care. That gave the impression that Ealdor was far from a safe home for Merlin. But why? What had happened?

“I can’t tell who exactly the child is, but he or she will come to you so they could fulfill their destiny,” Merlin assured him. “I haven’t been back to Ealdor in a while, but I remember most of the villagers kept to a tradition of wearing keys on chains about their necks. And there was a belief that one day, one villager would possess the magical key that the Pristinely Ungifted one – you – would need to cure the land.”

“Did you wear a key too?”

Merlin shook his head. “My mother and father weren’t natives of the village. They came when my mother was pregnant with me. They hoped Ealdor would be a quiet village they could settle down in. That didn’t last…but no, we didn’t wear keys. My younger sister, Freya, didn’t either.”

“You’re not going to tell me what went wrong?”

“No… it’s not something I like talking about. You have enough to deal with now. I don’t want to burden you further.”

And that was that. The rest of the morning was spent eating and then getting ready for the journey to Ealdor. Arthur didn’t speak much with Merlin during this time. He thought it was best as it looked like Merlin was in the grips of a dark mood. What if going to Ealdor and getting the key was a bad idea? Arthur hated the thought that Merlin would have to revisit an unpleasant past by helping him.

But Merlin seemed determined to go with Arthur, even despite him offering to Merlin to not go if it would be a problem for him.

Merlin had waved him away and said he would be fine.

“Two people traveling together is much safer than one.” Merlin noted logically.

Arthur couldn’t argue with that.

~ * ~

Staring deep into the great fire Merlin had conjured let Arthur’s mind wander. He stopped dwelling on his mother and just focused on the journey, and getting the chance to be with Merlin.

He reached out his hand to touch the flames, just for a moment, so he could feel that sensation of heat before pulling back his hand.

Except the moment his fingers touched the fire, the fire went out completely. It seemed that since the fire was magically conjured, Arthur’s gift put out the fire to neutralise the magic.

Merlin gave him a sharp look.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to put it out. I can build a new fire if you want.”

“It’s fine,” Merlin said wearily. “Unless you’re planning to make a habit of touching the fire…”

“No. No of course not,” Arthur said quickly.

“Well then.” Merlin’s eyes glowed golden as he called up another fire to blaze and flicker in the dark night.

“Merlin?” Arthur said then, curious. “Do you have an affliction?”

“Regrettably I do,” Merlin answered him sullenly.

“Is it memory loss? I remember you had trouble remembering me five months ago…that day you told me you were leaving.”

“I don’t like talking about this,” Merlin said stubbornly.

“Sorry…never mind. I promise I’ll keep it to myself. I won’t leave you just because you have memory loss. You’re not the only one who has an affliction. I’m sure other people have memory loss too.”

“And I look forward to meeting them. We could form a group,” Merlin suggested darkly.

“Sorry I brought it up. I’ll just go to sleep now,” Arthur declared. 

He stood up to head over to where he had laid his blanket.

“No. Wait. I should tell you. In case something happens, you should know the details of my memory loss. It wouldn’t be good to keep you in the dark about it.”

Arthur sat back down beside Merlin and looked at him expectantly.

“I’ve had my affliction for the past six months now. When I first met you,” Merlin paused then, biting his lip. He got out his journal, the same one that read ‘Memories’ which Arthur had seen at Merlin’s cottage before. “I’d had it for a month then.” He said after perusing the journal by glow of firelight.

“Okay. So what’s the nature of your memory loss? It doesn’t seem too terrible.”

“If I read my journal every morning after the sun rises, then I can cope. You haven’t seen me before I read it, before I try to re-orient myself.”

Arthur wasn’t sure if he wanted to see that side of Merlin, or if maybe it would be a good thing. To get a fuller, more accurate picture of the wizard. 

“Could your memory loss be why you were so bothered by me when I met you?”

Merlin gave him a look. “No, I think it was more that you came in when I wasn’t expecting anyone I didn’t know to find my home and get inside it. Just my luck that I decided to leave nearby someone who is Pristinely Ungifted.”

Arthur cringed. “Sorry again about that.”

Merlin waved his hand. “It was an accident. I know you mean no harm.”

He continued on, “The good thing is that I remember the first twenty years of my life. I still have those memories. The last day I remember was my twentieth birthday. I was afflicted two days after. The first day I forgot was the one following my twentieth birthday celebration. Once the sun rises the next day, the memories are gone. I have to write in this journal each day before I go to sleep as a record of memories. I read the journal when I wake up so I don’t miss any important details from the previous day. The trouble is…”

“Reading the journal doesn’t bring back the memories into your mind?” Arthur guessed, imagining how frustrating that could be. 

It wasn’t like Merlin could recall the memories just by reading the journal…the memories were gone and words on a page simply paled in comparison to the richness of a memory.

Merlin nodded. “Yes, that’s the problem. The last six months of my life…I only know what I did by reading through my journal, which I did before I came to see you. Mystra told me about the key and why it was important I return to see you.”

“How do you know to check the journal everyday if you forget?”

“Fortunately Mystra gave me the journal some months before I was afflicted. She recommended I use it as a record of what I do every day. I remember I have it, and I’ve become accustomed looking it over every morning.”

“It’s useful to have me then with you. I can tell you what you need to know… in case the journal isn’t enough.”

“Thank you. I prefer to trust the journal than be dependent on another person, but I appreciate the offer.”

“Well it’s still open no matter what.” 

Merlin gave him a small, grateful smile.

After Merlin wrote in his journal for about an hour, Arthur helping him out with any details, they went to bed.

~ * ~

Sombrely, Mordred watched as his mother’s funeral pyre floated out into the lake, the hungry fire the only true light in the darkness.

He wasn’t sure how to feel. He’d barely known her, had only seen her once during that brief meeting months ago. And then to discover she had raised another boy, not her own and even worse whom she had kidnapped, was a sharp blow for Mordred.

But he couldn’t be angry with the other person, who happened to be the Arthur Merlin was so intent on. Mordred didn’t doubt that if Arthur had known that his mother already had a son who she chose to give away, then he would have been on Mordred’s side. Especially once he’d learned that he’d been kidnapped by her.

There was no bigger lesson in learning that one’s elders were prone to making mistakes than Mordred seeing what his own mother had done. How desperation and a desire for a fuller life had driven Morgana Le Fay to take a child from his rightful mother. And that Mordred hadn’t fit into her plans as she raised Arthur. 

Mordred conceded that maybe his mother leaving him in the care of Mystra and the ladies in her employ was the best choice in the end. Otherwise, he would not have met Merlin and found a true friend in him. 

Suddenly, Mordred was startled out of his reverie upon seeing his mother before him in spirit form. She was wearing a dress though her skin was so pale, so unnaturally white, that he didn’t doubt that she was a ghost. He saw through her body to the peaceful lake behind her.

“Why are you here?” Mordred asked.

“You are my son, and my heir, Mordred. I wish to give you the family ring as is tradition.”

“I know about that, but you’re dead…and I was never a son to you, as I should have been.”

His mother looked sad. “I know. That is my fault. Not a day went by that I didn’t feel the guilt of not raising you. But you still came out of my womb. The day you were born was the happiest day of my life. I am proud of you and I trust you to carry on the family bloodline, and the honour of our family. Please, my child, take the ring.”

She held out her hand. Mordred saw the ring with the hazel tree, the family emblem, engraved into the stone. 

Mordred knelt down and solemnly offered his hand so that his mother could slip the ring on to his finger.

“The hazel tree is a symbol of wisdom, inspiration and healing. One day soon, Mordred, your gift of seeing the world differently from others will heal the land.”

Mordred wanted to roll his eyes. That wasn’t his gift, but his affliction. He didn’t see how his affliction could possibly be helpful to anyone much less the land. But he didn’t dare tell his mother this as the present occasion was not the appropriate time to express disbelief.

“Thank you, Mother,” he said, realizing this was the first time he called her Mother. Hopefully this would help his mother gain peace in her afterlife, that he finally acknowledged her as his mother. He could see her teary-eyed smile as he used that word. “I would like nothing better than to aid in healing the land.”

“Watch for your friend, Merlin,” his mother advised him. “He will need you and you must help him.”

“Of course. I will always help him if he needs it.” Mordred told her easily as he stood up. 

His mother smiled. “Thank you, my dear. I hate to leave you, but I must. I wish you well.”

“Goodbye, Mother,” he said softly, watching his mother fade away into the night. 

Mordred walked away from the lake, feeling sadness at his mother’s passing finally creep inside of him.

He nearly jumped, startled again, when he heard a familiar voice speak. 

“Hullo, Mordred,” said Pip.

The Faery prince was flying in front of him.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep right now in Sir Lancelot’s chambers at Camelot? Not to mention the danger traveling alone with the gremlin problem.”

“Well I’m with you now,” said Pip as if that was satisfactory enough. “I think I’ll be safe. I have the morning off tomorrow. Thought I’d stay with you? Merlin isn’t with you anymore?”

Mordred shook his head. He offered his hand, so that Pip could rest on it instead of tiring out his wings by sustaining flight as he talked. “No. He’s on a quest now.”

“I’m sure he is,” said Pip, standing on Mordred’s hand. “I saw him when I was with Sir Lancelot. Merlin was under glamour, pretending to be a physician with a salve for Sir Lancelot’s hand condition. I was concealed so he didn’t see me. I didn’t reveal the truth about Merlin because I knew he was trustworthy. Merlin’s like a brother to you, isn’t he? And the salve worked very well too, so I don’t think Sir Lancelot would have cared if Merlin had masked his identity. The Court Physician Taliesin is a bit envious, now, I believe because the salve was like a miracle. He was investigating the salve for most of the day…” Pip stopped, looking a bit sheepish at talking so much. 

Mordred knew that the night – maybe the ease of gremlins sneaking up on you – made Pip skittish and as a result, he talked a lot and sometimes a little too fast.

“Well thank you for keeping quiet about him. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry about your mother, Mordred,” Pip said sincerely.

“Thanks. You can stay with me until tomorrow afternoon. I’d rather not be alone,” Mordred decided.

Pip yawned, and then grinned sleepily at him. “I’m glad you agree.”

The Faery fell asleep soon after and Mordred put a small, Faery-sized blanket over him before he magically transported them both away back to his home.

~ * ~

As dawn approached, Arthur was woken up by the sound of cruel laughter. He saw little blue winged creatures that he was sure were gremlins from the texts he had studied. 

“Hey,” Arthur spoke up when he saw the trio of gremlins flying about Merlin’s head.

The gremlins turned to him, in surprise, clearly not anticipating Arthur to interrupt their trouble-making.

Arthur reached out for his sword and pointed it at them.

“Leave him alone,” he said in as commanding voice as he could muster.

The gremlins giggled amongst themselves. “It’s the strange one. Time to go!” They declared. 

Then the three gremlins disappeared all too easily making Arthur suspicious. Had he woken up too late after the damage had been made? Had the gremlins done something to Merlin? 

After returning his sword into its sheath, Arthur went to Merlin and nudged his shoulder to wake him up. Merlin must be a deep sleeper if he hadn’t woken up with the gremlins laughing so close to him.

Yet even after touching Merlin, Arthur was unsuccessful in waking the wizard. 

“Merlin? Wake up. There were gremlins…” Arthur said, hoping to rouse him. 

No luck.

Then he noticed a small vial that was half-empty beside Merlin. He hadn’t seen Merlin take anything before going to sleep hours ago. He must have done so later on, waking up while Arthur had still been sleeping.

Catching a whiff of the liquid in the vial, Arthur was certain it was a sleeping potion from the scent of poppy. 

“Seriously, Merlin,” he muttered to himself. Why was Merlin taking a sleeping potion? 

Maybe he had difficulty sleeping, knowing with the sun rise, his memory of the day would disappear. The potion could be Merlin’s only way of getting a decent slumber, Arthur decided. And he had hid it from Arthur by taking it while Arthur had been asleep. 

Then he noticed that there was a ring now on Merlin’s right hand. It had Merlin’s family emblem on it – a dragon breathing out a phoenix. When had he received that? Arthur hadn’t seen it earlier. 

The sun was about to rise, and Arthur tried to get Merlin to wake up again. 

“Merlin, please. Wake up,” Arthur asked him.

Of course, just his luck, the sun was high in the sky when Merlin finally woke up. His memories of the last six months were gone.

Merlin looked at Arthur blankly, not recognizing Arthur due to the memory loss. 

“I’m Arthur… you should read your journal,” Arthur advised him.

Merlin glared at him, irritated. “I always check my journal. Who do you think you are?” He shot back at him. 

Arthur remained quiet. Merlin’s condition wasn’t an easy one and he wasn’t about to rile up a wizard of the First Order no matter if Merlin’s magic couldn’t hurt him.

Arthur watched as Merlin made his journal magically appear. Then he saw the confusion on Merlin’s face as he turned the pages.

“What the hell. Have you done something to my journal? Every page is blank. And how did I end up here when last I remember it was my twentieth birthday. I was nowhere near here, wherever here is. I don’t recall ever having seen you.”

Arthur was growing very concerned. That wasn’t right. How was his journal blank? Had the gremlins done something? Managed to gain access to Merlin’s journal?

He’d been too late to thwart the gremlins’ mischief and now Merlin was paying the price for it. Arthur felt guilt overcome him.

“You have an affliction, Merlin. You’ve forgotten the past six months of your life, including me. Every sun rise, you forget the previous day which is in addition to the other days you’ve forgotten. The journal was a written record for you, to inform of what you had experienced.”

“But the bloody memories won’t return into my mind, is that it? It’s like reading a story of someone else’s life,” Merlin said bitterly. He peered at Arthur. “You’re Arthur? And for some reason I’m traveling with you.”

Arthur nodded. “To get this special key from a child most likely. So I could heal the land and put an end to the afflictions. You’ll be cured.”

Merlin continued to look at him carefully. “Something else…” he said to himself. “You’re Pristinely Ungifted! Oh no, no, no… you’re the lost prince of Camelot, aren’t you? I don’t want anything to do with you.”

Merlin stood up and began backing away from him.

“What? Why are you acting like this?” Arthur asked in shock. He stood up as well, raising his hands to show he meant no harm. “You knew I had that gift before and that didn’t bother you then.”

“Well clearly I had temporarily lost my mind then! The blood of a Pristinely Ungifted one is poison to a wizard of the First Order. You stay away from me. I don’t care what you need to do. The last thing I want to do is consort with someone who could kill me,” Merlin shouted at him.

His hand was out as if he was about to perform magic against Arthur, but then he appeared to realise it would have no effect. He put his hand down.

“Merlin, please. I don’t want to kill you. I’ll do anything. I’ll be as careful as possible not to get my blood anywhere near you. Please. Just give me a chance. I only want us to be friends. Please,” Arthur pleaded with him earnestly.

Merlin shook his head. “No. I refuse. You won’t convince me.”

Desperate, Arthur took out his stuffed toy, Falcon, and showed it to Merlin. “This was given to me by my real mother the day I was born. It’s a Merlin falcon. Maybe this was a sign that one day I would meet you, Merlin. That we are destined to be together, to be a team, to be friends…maybe even something more. Please, I need you with me. I’m just asking for you to give me a chance.”

Merlin looked at Arthur then looked at Falcon. “Give me the bird,” he ordered Arthur.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “What? So you could destroy it? You’re not acting like yourself...I don’t know if I can completely trust you now. At least with Falcon. I’ve had him all my life.”

“I won’t destroy him. I promise,” Merlin assured him.

And there was a sincere look in Merlin’s blue eyes that left Arthur believing in Merlin’s words. And anyway, Merlin couldn’t magically manipulate Arthur into trusting his word. So maybe this wouldn’t end in disaster.

Arthur handed Falcon over to him. Merlin took the bird, only holding it with one hand and giving it a little squeeze. He made no move to set Falcon on fire to Arthur’s relief.

Merlin studied the bird with interest. “Beautifully made,” he remarked pleasantly, a change of tone that threw Arthur off. Would Merlin be more willing to accept him now?

“Thanks,” Arthur said.

Merlin held a question in his eyes as he looked at Arthur. “Tell me where we need to find this key and I’ll give you Falcon back.”

Arthur swore to himself. Based on his past impression, Ealdor was one of the last places Merlin would ever want to go to, or return to as the case may be. It had been with great luck that Merlin had agreed to accompany Arthur to his old home village.

But now with the journal blank and Merlin’s behavior being rather erratic, Arthur didn’t think saying the location was Ealdor would be very persuasive in getting Merlin to go with him.

“Judging by how your face has fallen, I imagine the place to be a happy one,” Merlin remarked, the sarcasm thick in his words.

“It’s Ealdor,” Arthur told him. “I’m sorry. If I had to choose, it wouldn’t be there, but it is. I know you had a troubled past there…”

Merlin looked at him in disbelief. “Oh do you? You know that my father had a nasty affliction that made him paranoid, causing him to magically attack and kill most of the people of Ealdor? That some had managed to flee, but I’m sure they’ve returned by now and are waiting to make me pay. Simply because I’m his son. Like father like son, they say. That’s why I desperately prayed for an affliction that wasn’t like his.”

Then Merlin started breathing hard, his hands on his knees. He was hyperventilating.

“Merlin, please. Calm down,” Arthur spoke to him softly, rubbing his shoulders. He took Falcon back, the bird loosened in Merlin’s grip.

Arthur was relieved when Merlin seemed to come back to himself, calming down. Merlin turned to Arthur then. He stared at him like he was seeing a new person entirely.

“I – I didn’t know the details. I’m so sorry,” said Arthur apologetically.

Merlin gave a small shrug. “That was over ten years ago. I’m fine,” he said. Then he placed his hand over Arthur’s cheek. “I need…to feel you,” Merlin whispered to him.

“Wait. Merlin. You’re confusing me…what…” Arthur stopped when Merlin pressed his lips to his.

Arthur fell back on to the ground, though he still clung to Falcon in his hand. Merlin was on top of him, and he let Merlin’s tongue gain entrance inside his mouth.

Arthur had never kissed a man before, or anyone else in the way of lovers, so he wasn’t sure how to do this. 

Despite the inexperience, he gathered up his courage and he deepened the kiss, feeling the sweetness of Merlin’s mouth. Soon Arthur felt Merlin’s fingers unlacing his breeches. His breath hitched at the physical contact of Merlin’s hand touching his cock.

He never thought his blood could travel so fast down to his cock, and he was feeling lightheaded as a result.

“Gods, Merlin… please,” he uttered when Merlin pulled away, letting him breathe. “I don’t…I’ve never done this before.”

“Don’t worry,” Merlin gave him an encouraging smile. It made Arthur wonder what the hell was going on Merlin’s quick shifts in behavior. Was this some sort of strange side effect of his affliction? That now that he didn’t have his journal to depend on, he was acting oddly?

“I’ve done this before. I have a daughter after all,” Merlin told him.

Arthur stared at him in surprise. He pushed Merlin away from him, forcing him to remove his hand from his length. While Arthur quickly missed the feel of Merlin’s deft fingers on him, he had to do it.

He couldn’t let this revelation go. “I didn’t know you had a child. Is she living with her mother then?”

Merlin frowned, looking puzzled why Arthur wanted to discuss this when they were in the middle of something more pleasurable. Well he would just have to cope with it, Arthur thought grimly. “No. Forridel passed away not long after she gave birth to our daughter. She’s in the care of a friend I trust in Mystra’s protected lands. I visit her, of course, when I can. She means everything to me,” Merlin said with a small tender smile as he spoke of his daughter.

Then he gave Arthur a pointed look. “Now can we go back to what we were doing? There’s so much I can show you,” Merlin promised him with a quick grin.

Arthur was tempted to let Merlin win but then he realized that this made everything worse. If Merlin would agree to go with Arthur to Ealdor, a place where Merlin could be facing execution, then Merlin’s daughter would be without a father. She’d be an orphan. Now Arthur understood why Merlin was against going to Ealdor. He couldn’t believe Merlin had even agreed to head to Ealdor before the gremlin mess. Maybe before, Merlin had thought helping Arthur heal the land was worth the risk, even entering a village that would mean a likely death for him. 

And now without the journal to remind him of what he should know, Merlin’s opinion had changed. Quite possibly Mystra had persuaded Merlin to head to Ealdor with Arthur. He must have written it in his journal. Yet now, all those words of persuasion were gone. All that was left was Merlin’s knowledge that he had a daughter who depended on him while Arthur was a stranger asking Merlin to risk his life and potentially leave his child an orphan. 

Arthur swallowed, rubbing his brow. He laced his breeches back up. “I can’t… your daughter, Merlin. What is her name?” He asked him.

“Arthur…I love my daughter, but I don’t understand why you want to talk about her. It’s too early for this,” Merlin said, slightly irritated.

Arthur sighed. “I just want to know her name.”

“Lily Rose, okay? That’s her name. Lily was after Forridel’s mother and Rose was after my…my… ” Merlin stopped. 

“Merlin?” Arthur prompted quietly.

Merlin pressed his fingers to his brow. “My little sister Freya… she died when I was ten. She was only five…and her second name was Rose. That’s where Rose came from. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Merlin said.

“You’re right, Merlin. You shouldn’t go with me to Ealdor,” Arthur decided. “I don’t want you to risk death when you have Lily to think of. I wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye, tell her why you died. I don’t want her to live without her father. My mother died only yesterday, and the ache of the loss hurts. Even if she wasn’t my real mother…eighteen years of her caring for me and loving me, that still means something to me.” 

Even as Arthur spoke of his mother, he felt he was the wrong person to address this subject considering the complicated feelings he had toward his mother. The weight of eighteen years of her raising him and loving him did feel stronger than the moment of revelation that she was his kidnapper. To balance those two conflicting perceptions of his deceased mother gave Arthur a rotten headache.

“Your daughter’s still so young,” Arthur pressed on earnestly. “If you die now, it’ll be harder for her to remember you, to remember how much you love her.”

Merlin stayed silent, a thoughtful expression on his face. Then he spoke, “I’m glad you understand the risk more clearly now. But you said we need to get the key from Ealdor. That this object will heal the land, cure everyone with afflictions. I need to help you, don’t I?”

Arthur nodded. “A moment ago, you seemed against the idea. What changed your mind?”

“I don’t think Lily would be happy with me if I didn’t offer my help to a good cause. She hasn’t gained an affliction yet, and if helping you get the key will spare my daughter from dealing with an affliction, then I will do it.”

“It’s your decision in the end,” he said, deciding it was Merlin’s choice and it wasn’t worth arguing with him. After all, Arthur wanted Merlin come with him. “So how do we get to Ealdor?” Arthur asked Merlin, intent on gaining that key as fast as possible. Preferably without a threat to Merlin’s life.

“That’s not hard. The difficult part is surviving the Winter Barrier protecting the entrance to the village. It’s a challenge making it through the barrier without freezing to death. Magic loses most of its strength while you’re in the Winter Barrier. I tried it once when I was young, but I couldn’t last. My mum had to pull me out before I lost my fingers to the cold.”

The dreaded barrier only took them an hour to get to, which left Arthur grateful.

Yet what bewildered him was that he didn’t see any signs of winter in this Winter Barrier. 

“Merlin, are you sure this is the barrier?” Arthur asked, looking at the expansive clearing of grass and a few trees dotted here and there on either side.

Merlin looked unhappy and a touch, envious? Did Arthur see that right?

“It is. But you’re Pristinely Ungifted, and this barrier is wholly magic-made. Your condition won’t allow you to see the magic-caused winter. Perhaps, even, you won’t feel the chill of the cold.”

Arthur frowned. He stepped inside the barrier and confirmed Merlin’s suspicion. He didn’t feel the winter cold. It only felt like the cool autumn day it should be.

“I’m okay, but if your magic is weaker in the barrier, then maybe you shouldn’t come,” Arthur told him, feeling unhappy. 

“I’ll be fine. I knew about the barrier when I agreed to help you. I still want to help,” Merlin said in a stubborn tone.

With that, Merlin headed right into the barrier and walked past Arthur. Almost immediately, Arthur saw Merlin shivering from the cold Arthur didn’t feel. He saw Merlin glow briefly, like he was trying to warm himself magically. Then he heard Merlin swear when it appeared the warming spell wasn’t strong as it could have been outside the barrier.

“I have a blanket,” Arthur offered as he caught up to Merlin.

Merlin was only wearing blue robes that looked more appropriate for springtime weather. At least the robes had a hood to cover his head if necessary.

Merlin glanced at him. He grudgingly took the blanket and wrapped it around himself.

“I suppose for now the non-magic way is the best option,” Arthur remarked. “You don’t want to lose energy using your magic when it won’t be working at full strength here.”

“Thank you,” Merlin said all too politely, giving Arthur an odd look.

Arthur nodded. “I should tell you…not that it’ll be much help now, but there were three gremlins last night. I think they might have removed the contents of your journal. I woke up too late to stop them. You’d taken a sleeping potion that kept you from being roused awake by their raucous.”

Merlin didn’t look as angry as Arthur expected him to be. Instead, he just looked defeated and tired.

“Of course. Gremlins will take any measure to exact mischief. Even if you’d woken up earlier, they would have done anything to accomplish their trouble-making,” Merlin told him, glaring off into the distance.

“But maybe you can make up for it now. You should be able to continue using your journal. You can write down what you did today at least. And then since magic won’t affect me, I can keep your journal in my possession and then the gremlins…”

“…won’t be able to use magic to tamper with the journal.” Merlin finished. “That would be good.”

They ended up having to stay the night in the Winter Barrier. After dinner, Arthur could see how hard the cold weather was on Merlin. His magic wasn’t helping and a thick blanket could only do so much. 

“I can write in your journal for you,” Arthur suggested as he watched Merlin rub his hands together to keep them warm. Arthur saw a small glow appear inside his hands as Merlin still persisted in using a bit of warming magic.

“Okay. I appreciate that,” Merlin said. 

He gave Arthur his journal and a quill with ink. 

“I have some mittens. You can have them,” Arthur said, pulling a pair of dark red mittens with a little falcon in the center of each. His mother had knitted them for him.

Merlin took the offered mittens and put his hands inside the mittens. “You prepared for all weather, didn’t you?” Merlin remarked, flashing him an ‘I can’t believe you’re real’ grin.

Arthur shrugged. “I tried my best.”

Merlin laid down then, still wrapped snuggly in his blanket and his hood covering his head. And now with mittens covering his hands, he wouldn’t lose any fingers Arthur hoped.

For the next hour or two, they talked about what to write in the journal. Merlin seemed to be coping well enough with the cold. He answered Arthur readily and gave solid input about he wanted in his journal. Arthur made sure to include all that Merlin wanted. 

“Are you alright?” Arthur asked after they were finished.

“I think I may die here. You should write a eulogy for me,” Merlin muttered darkly.

“Don’t be like that,” Arthur told him. “Maybe a fire will help?”

“A magic-based fire probably won’t give off much heat here,” Merlin countered.

“I can build one instead of a magical fire. So you can focus more on keeping warm,” Arthur decided. “There are some branches littered around here. I can manage.”

“Hopefully this’ll work,” Merlin said, though he sounded far from hopeful.

Arthur gave him a concerned look. Then he took out another blanket from his pack. 

“Here…one more blanket should help.”

Arthur covered Merlin with the other blanket until he could barely see the wizard. He could only spot the top of his hooded head.  
Then Arthur gave him Falcon. “Falcon can keep you company,” he said as Merlin accepted the stuffed bird with a gloved hand and snuck it back under the blankets.

“Thank you. I’ll look after him for you,” Merlin promised him.

“I know you will,” Arthur said, looking and feeling confident of his words. Maybe he pitied Merlin a bit now because he was suffering, but he did trust that Falcon, his most treasured possession, would be safe with Merlin.

Arthur collected branches and twigs as quickly as he could to start a fire close to Merlin, so he would benefit from the warmth.

The fire was made, and Arthur sat beside Merlin huddling as close as he could to him. He hoped that some of his body heat would seep into Merlin.

“I’m taking all the blankets,” Merlin indicated, but shortly after he sneezed. His nose was as red as strawberry. “You should have one. Even if you’re not affected by this bitter cold.”

“It’s more important you don’t get ill. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m the older one here. I make the final decision,” Merlin argued. Without allowing Arthur to protest, he removed one of his blankets and put it firmly in Arthur’s lap.

“Use it, please,” Merlin ordered him.

“Okay, okay. If you insist,” Arthur gave in. Better to appease Merlin or he’d get sicker. The last thing Arthur wanted was to make Merlin more miserable than he already was. 

“Tomorrow…we’ll make it to Ealdor. We won’t spend…another night… here,” Merlin said, stuttering.

“I almost think we should just go through the night. The less time you spend here, the better, but we need to get some rest. You look exhausted.”

“Yeah,” Merlin admitted quietly.

He dropped his head on to Arthur’s shoulder, and Arthur was left watching the dancing flames of the fire as Merlin fell into a restless sleep.

~ * ~

They ended their journey in the Winter Barrier early the following day. To his dismay, Arthur’s fear came to light.

The whole of Ealdor seemed to be there, waiting for them, judging them. They crowded around them as two of the men came forward – one who had his eye on Arthur and the other swiftly moved to manacle Merlin’s hands. Merlin didn’t resist, he just let himself be restrained. Arthur was worried about what they would do to him.

“What is your business here?” One of the men asked, staring Arthur down. He had brown hair and pale grey eyes. “What are you doing with Balinor’s son?”

Arthur hated the defeated look in Merlin’s eyes. So the villagers knew very well who Merlin was and as Merlin had warned, he was being persecuted – the villagers taking no chances. And his father’s name appeared to be Balinor. 

“My name is Arthur. I’m seeking a key to end the plague of afflictions. I’m Pristinely Ungifted.”

The red-haired man who had Merlin restrained widened his eyes. “Why is a Pristinely Ungifted one consorting with a dangerous wizard of the First Order?”

“This Arthur is clearly out of his mind! The wizard has brainwashed him!” A woman in the crowd exclaimed. The rest of the villagers hummed their agreement.

“Merlin didn’t brainwash me. His magic doesn’t affect me,” Arthur defended Merlin while he remained unsettlingly quiet, just standing there with rusty manacles looking a bit lost and hopeless.

“Well he could have found non-magic methods,” the man questioning Arthur said decisively. “For now, we cannot trust you. We don’t know how the wizard has twisted your mind. We will keep you separated.”

“And tomorrow the wizard will be executed as is befitting,” the man who had Merlin said with a satisfied grin.

“No! You can’t!” Arthur said fiercely. “Leave him alone. Can’t you see he’s not fighting back? He’s not like his father. You have to give Merlin a chance.”

“Merlin has not told you, has he?” The grey-eyed man wondered. 

Arthur looked to Merlin, silently pleading with him to speak. What was the man on about?

“Merlin, what is it?” Arthur asked him, softly coaxing an answer out of him.

Merlin’s now dull blue eyes pierced Arthur’s. And he finally spoke, “My father is still alive as far as I know. I can’t remember the last six months, but from what I do know, he’s still in exile.”

In all the revelations Arthur had been burdened, this one didn’t seem as surprising. 

Arthur nodded to Merlin’s hand, the one with the ring on it. Could Merlin’s father have visited him that night the gremlins came? Without a doubt, that ring had to be a family one and Merlin’s father would be the most logical choice as the ring’s giver.  
Merlin looked slightly startled at the ring on his finger. Arthur wasn’t sure how Merlin had missed the ring on his finger. Or had there been so much else going on that the last thing Merlin thought to question was the inexplicable appearance of his family emblem ring on his finger?

“And so,” the grey-eyed man spoke up then, “Balinor’s son Merlin must be punished in his stead. If his father is too cowardly to confront his fate, then he will contend the guilt of knowing his son died because of him.”

Arthur saw Merlin hang his head, ready to accept his fate.

“We should subdue the wizard,” the red-haired man declared.

The grey-eyed man nodded. 

Arthur fought, trying to pull away, but the other man was too strong. And anyway, if he ran, he’d have to deal with a whole village coming after him.

“Hold still. We will only want to kill the wizard. When we’re sure you can be trusted, we’ll help you find the key you need.”

“How comforting,” Arthur muttered darkly to himself. “I want to keep my pack. You want to separate me from Merlin, fine, but all I ask is that you not take away my things,” Arthur negotiated.

Merlin’s journal not to mention Falcon was in the pack, and Arthur wanted to keep all that with him. Because he wouldn’t accept Merlin dying here. If Arthur kept the pack, then it was like a good luck charm for him – reassuring him that Merlin wouldn’t die. That they’d get out of this, together, and together they’d save the land.

“Very well,” the grey-eyed man agreed. “I will let you keep your belongings.”

Then he took out a dagger and cut into Arthur’s forearm. Arthur hissed in pain, but the cut wasn’t deep. It was enough though for the wound to bleed. 

“Do you have the bracelet, Redmond?” The grey-eyed man asked the red-haired man.

Redmond nodded. “Yes. Should I put it on him?”

“Yes, do it now.”

Arthur realized what they would do. Merlin had told him that his Pristinely Ungifted blood was poison to wizards. 

“No, don’t do it. Please don’t,” Arthur spoke urgently. “This is too much.”

But they ignored him.

Redmond put the bracelet around Merlin’s wrist and then the grey-eyed man gave him some of the blood he collected from Arthur in a vial.

After Redmond smeared the blood around the bracelet, the enchanted bracelet glowed a sickly yellow-green colour after the blood seemed to sink into it.

That was when Merlin screamed in such agony that Arthur wanted to rip that bracelet off him. He hated that he was partially to blame for Merlin’s pain. It was Arthur’s blood that was hurting him.

“Merlin, please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Arthur said in desperation. “You know I would never use my blood against you if I had a choice. I’m sorry for bringing you here, so sorry. Gods. Merlin.”

Merlin didn’t even look at him. He had fallen to the ground, still screaming like he was in the fiery pits of hell itself, and he was clawing at his face.

“Come on,” the grey-eyed man told him. “Give the wizard a strong sedative so he stays quiet. We have our confirmation about the strength of Pristinely Ungifted blood. Let him have his rest,” he directed Redmond.

Arthur was firmly led away, though he still couldn’t resist looking back at Merlin.

Mercifully, Redmond put a cloth over Merlin’s face and Merlin finally stopped screaming himself hoarse. He went limp to the ground, now in the grip of a deep sleep. 

Redmond also removed the bracelet, to Arthur’s immense relief. Arthur hoped they wouldn’t put the bracelet on him again.

~ * ~ 

The next day, Arthur was grim as he followed the grey-eyed man, who had told him his name was Declan, out into the centre of the village where Merlin’s beheading would take place.

He couldn’t see Merlin there yet, but Arthur did see the axe ready and waiting to be used. 

His attention was caught by a commotion outside one of the dwellings. A small girl wearing a hooded robe rushed out of her home. Arthur wondered if his eyes were deceiving him, but he was positive he couldn’t see any hair peeking out from the girl’s hood. Maybe the poor girl’s affliction had left her bare-headed?

“Grace, Grace!” Her father called. He looked weary; as if this wasn’t the first time his daughter had run off. “Don’t go too far! Take the special way, avoid the Winter Barrier,” he advised her.

The girl, Grace, looked back and that was when her pale blue eyes looked straight at Arthur.

Arthur noticed the key on a chain around her neck. He was drawn to it, unlike the other keys he’d seen on some of the villagers of Ealdor.

The girl had the key he needed. He could even see it close up in his mind’s eye. A butterfly was engraved on the front of the key. 

But then it was too late. The girl ran off to who knew where. Arthur wasn’t sure if he’d be believed if he insisted that the girl had the key he desired. That he needed to find her now. 

Yet he needed to save Merlin first. He couldn’t allow Merlin to die. 

Unfortunately, Declan made him take a potion that calmed him down a little too well. He felt lethargic and found it too hard to muster up the movement to get to Merlin and save him. Arthur could only stand there as a blindfolded Merlin was put on the block and an axe cut off his head.

Merlin was dead.

Arthur stared despondently, horror taking hold of him, as he watched Merlin’s head roll down on to the ground.

Then he saw a man about his age some feet ahead of him, set apart from the crowd. No one but Arthur appeared to see him, so the mystery man must have been under an invisibility spell. He had dark hair and green eyes, green eyes that reminded of his mother actually. Could this be Mordred, the one Merlin told him about? His mother’s natural born son?

The man nodded at Arthur, and then he disappeared.

Arthur felt the earth below him shift and then his surroundings blurred and faded away. He was being pulled backwards.

~ * ~

Arthur woke up to find himself just outside of the Winter Barrier. Merlin was sleeping, head intact, and looking – well – not dead, so that alone relieved Arthur. He assumed that time must have rewound if they were back to where they had been a few days ago. And it was all thanks to the man who could have been Mordred. Maybe he’d see him again.

He attempted to get Merlin to wake up, but he remained fast asleep. Arthur bit his lip, but then his attention was diverted by a Faery flying in front of him. One who had a golden coronet on his head.

“Hello, I’m Pip, one of the princes of the Faery kingdom,” the Faery greeted him. “I have someone I think you want to see.”

“What happened? Did time rewind?” Arthur wanted to know. Then he realised he should at least introduce himself. “I’m Arthur, by the way.”

Pip nodded. “That was Mordred’s doing. He’s a good friend of Merlin’s and he wouldn’t let him die.”

“I wish I could thank him,” Arthur said. 

“Oh he knows you’re grateful. Don’t worry. I expect Merlin won’t be too happy that Mordred took such a big risk.”

“I remember my mother telling me rewinding time is a dangerous spell. That’s why it’s rarely done,” Arthur recalled.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Who do you want me to see?” Arthur asked. 

“You can come out now, Grace,” Pip told her.

Arthur couldn’t resist flashing a grateful grin. First Merlin was alive, now he would be able to get the key. Everything was coming together.

The little girl, Grace, approached him with a shy smile. 

“Pip told me you needed my key because you’re the Pristinely Ungifted one and you can rid the land of afflictions.”

“Yes. He’s right. You know Pip?”

The girl shook her head. “Not very well.”

“We’ve just met,” Pip spoke up. 

Grace blushed a little. “I hope you succeed. I hate my affliction,” she said passionately.

“What is it, if I may ask?” Arthur wondered. Was it just that she was without hair on her head?

She took a deep breath, looking toward Pip as if she could gain courage from the Faery prince.

Grace put down her hood. Arthur was horrified to see that she wasn’t just bare-headed, but half her skull was exposed. He could see the right side of her brain easily.

“I can live even with this problem, but it still doesn’t look nice. That’s why I wear my hood. I wish I had hair to cover it…” she said plaintively.

She sighed and put her hood back up.

“I promise you that I’ll end the afflictions and you’ll be cured,” Arthur assured her fiercely.

“Thank you,” Grace said. Then she removed the chain with the key on it from her neck. “Here’s the key,” and she gave it to Arthur.

Arthur nodded to her and smiled. He took the key off the chain and returned the chain to her. “Thanks for coming to me.”

Grace looked happy. “You’re welcome. I should return home. My father always worries about me,” she told him, her expression turning into a rather guilty one.

“Goodbye Arthur,” Pip called back to him as he used his Faery magic to transport Grace and himself to Ealdor.

It was after they’d left that Arthur wondered if he should have asked Pip about what to do with the key. But he had discovered the right key by his senses alone, so he should just trust his instincts again.

What was he meant to do with key?

He looked over at Merlin who was still asleep.

Nothing was coming to him. Maybe he should try to wake up Merlin again so he could help him out?

Arthur was grateful that he still had his pack with him complete with Merlin’s journal. If Merlin would just read that, then he could discuss this properly with him.

He was about to rouse Merlin awake when he was prevented from doing that. A man had grabbed a hold of him and pressed a sharp knife to Arthur’s throat.

Arthur gripped the key in his hand tightly like it was his lifeline.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Arthur demanded, trying his best not to panic.

“Rufus, wizard of the First Order. Merlin knows me well, knows how I like to inflict pain on others due to my affliction. Actually, little Merlin here is intimately familiar with my affliction,” he said with relish.

Arthur elbowed him in the gut, forcing Rufus back and away from him. 

Arthur quickly turned around to face the wizard, but he was gone. Magically vanished most likely. Damn it.

Then he felt a blade pierce him in the abdomen. He collapsed to the ground, blood leaving him. There was so much blood. Arthur couldn’t look at it or he felt he’d be ill. 

“Sorry. Couldn’t leave when the game wasn’t over,” Rufus said with a cold grin.

Arthur looked up at him, his eyes watering. He saw the blade that Rufus held was covered in his blood, Pristinely Ungifted blood.

And if his blood was poison to those of the First Order, then…

Arthur wasn’t able to finish that thought when he saw Merlin wake up. He expected the lack of recognition on his face as Merlin looked at him, but that reaction still hurt. Memory loss was a terrible thing no matter if it was partial or full memory loss.

“Look at that. Merlin has awoken,” Rufus said, amused.

“You can fuck off, Rufus,” Merlin shot back at him with such fierce hatred that it made Arthur flinch.

Then without hesitation, he closed in on Rufus. Arthur guessed that Merlin had slowed down time for a moment. Merlin grabbed the blade covered with Arthur’s blood and viciously stuck it through Rufus’s body.

“You should get your eyes checked. White glow on the blood. Blood which belongs to a Pristinely Ungifted one,” Merlin informed Rufus.

“No…no…they can’t exist…no,” Rufus uttered in disbelief. 

Rufus refused to believe it even as Arthur watched his skin start burning and then flaking. It was rather disgusting. Then he was consumed by fire, the wizard’s screams the loudest sound in the area as he died a painful death.

“I knew one day you’d pay for your foolishness,” Merlin muttered to himself, speaking about Rufus.

“Merlin, my blood… it could hurt you too,” Arthur spoke up.

Merlin looked back at him, then he fell down beside Arthur. “Oh no. Who are you? If you’re Pristinely Ungifted, I can’t heal you with my magic…” Merlin said, sounding hopeless and very frustrated.

“I know you can’t. It’s okay. I’ll be okay… I’m Arthur. I haven’t known you for that long, but I still…you were helping me to cure the land…there’s a journal…wait…time rewound…it’s blank now…no…no.”

“Ssssh, don’t speak. You’re wasting energy. I’m sorry I don’t know you as well as you know me.”

Arthur felt his heart break at how sad Merlin sounded about not remembering him. 

“…can’t choose…your affliction…” Arthur gasped out, fighting hard to breathe now. “I love you, Merlin.”

“Arthur?” Merlin said, but Arthur had stopped breathing. “Arthur! No. You can’t die!”

“You can’t leave me so soon,” he whispered quietly, hugging Arthur’s body to him. 

Silent tears fell down his face but Merlin didn’t have the strength to wipe them away.

Merlin barely knew Arthur yet it was still painful to watch any man die, bleeding out before him, and as a Wizard of the First Order he could do nothing.

Then suddenly eight purple butterflies appeared, and they fluttered over Arthur’s body. Each butterfly glowed with an inner light, which caused Merlin to believe they were magical in nature.

“Are you here to help him?” Merlin asked. 

He’d never seen butterflies with healing magic capabilities, but he was desperate for any sign of hope.

The butterflies only flew in a close-knit flock over Arthur’s chest. A tense moment later and Merlin was overwhelmingly relieved to see Arthur breathing again. His chest was going up and down as it should though Arthur slept on. Unfortunately his bleeding wound at the abdomen was still not healed.

~ * ~ 

“Merlin, we need to fix things,” Mordred told him softly as he sat down beside him. “Maybe the butterflies won’t heal him completely until you get the blood you need for the key.”

Turning to look at Mordred, Merlin was suspicious. Mordred was looking paler than he should be looking. In fact, he looked drained and his hands were trembling.  
“What have you done, Mordred? Arthur told me time rewound. Did you have a part in that?” Merlin asked, a tone of accusation in his words.

“You were going to die. I had to stop that. It was a successful spell. I don’t regret doing it one bit. You matter more than me,” Mordred said with such great certainty that it made Merlin angry that Mordred would think so low of himself.

His true mother giving him away instead of raising him herself always left Mordred with a poor perception of himself. After all, if his mother didn’t think he was good enough to keep, then was he really worthy of anything? No matter what Merlin did, Mordred’s unhealthy view of himself was a stubborn beast.

“You rewound time after I died, didn’t you?” Merlin concluded. “That’s when a time rewind works best.”

Mordred nodded.

“The balance must be restored. Mordred…” Merlin said with a weary sigh.

“I know. I’m going to die. I’m glad I’ll die knowing that I saved your life. You don’t have to be upset, Merlin. I’m okay. I knew what would happen before I did the spell. But now we need the key to cure the land.”

Merlin still gave Mordred a hard, displeased look; but let him change the subject. 

“The key is in his hand,” Merlin said. He went to take the key from Arthur’s hand. 

“The key has to be covered with his blood. Do you have anything to protect your hands?” Mordred asked.

Merlin eyed the pack. “Maybe, in there…” he decided.

He opened up the pack and took out the journal Arthur told him about. Merlin remembered Mystra giving it to him. He pulled out a stuffed Merlin falcon toy. He admired the look of the bird. Impressive, he thought.

He set the bird aside too. Then he found what he could use for his hands. Dark red mittens with a falcon on each mitten.

Merlin changed them into gloves so they’d be easier to grasp the key.

Gloves protecting his hands from the poisonous Pristinely Ungifted blood, Merlin set about the unhappy task of covering the key with Arthur’s blood. It wasn’t difficult to do as the key was small and there was so much blood coming from Arthur and pooling around him. The sight made Merlin sick and want to cry.

Arthur couldn’t die.

Once the key was completely coated with blood, Merlin was relieved to see the miracle-making butterflies heal Arthur’s wound.

Merlin didn’t know how these magical creatures were healing Arthur when no magic should work on him. But he was grateful all the same for their appearance and desire to help him when Merlin could not. As soon as they finished healing Arthur, the butterflies vanished just as mysteriously as they had appeared. 

He looked to Mordred. “Do you know where to put the key?”

“There’s a black circle with a white phoenix in its centre in front of you,” Mordred told him.

Merlin looked at the spot Mordred was pointing to. He only saw grass.

“It’s only something you can see, I’m guessing. With your black and white vision.”

Mordred nodded. “But the trick is you need to stick the key into the phoenix. Not me. So I need to make you see it. I have a spell. It can be reversed, but not for me of course because afflictions are pains like that,” he said. He rolled his eyes and sighed.

“I have to see like you?” Merlin repeated, curious to see the world from Mordred’s perspective, but anxious to be deprived of seeing colours even for a short span of time.

“Only for a few moments. It won’t be too bad. I’ve survived it.”

Mordred pressed his fingers to Merlin’s brow and said a few words in the Old Tongue. 

And then Merlin saw everything differently. Everything was a careful mix of black and white. Arthur was mostly white in colour due to his fair skin and blond hair, but his clothing was mostly dark with touches of white. Mordred’s hair was a pure black with his skin a very white colour. 

Merlin almost wanted to laugh because this was such a bizarre experience.

“Do you see it?” Mordred asked him after Merlin got oriented.

Merlin looked in front of him, and it was as Mordred had said. There was a black circle with a white phoenix.

“I see it.” Merlin answered him.

He pierced the key into the body of the phoenix. Yet nothing was happening. 

The vision spell reversed on its own as if Merlin’s mind couldn’t bear to be deprived of colour for too long.

All the colours flooding back into the world overwhelmed Merlin. He had to blink a few times to get used to the colours again.

He saw the key was still in the grass. He was unable to see the circle and phoenix now.

“It doesn’t look like it worked,” Merlin voiced, puzzled and upset.

Mordred frowned. Merlin saw that he was looking worse by the minute. Death was coming soon for Mordred. He was shivering and sweating and his expression was one full of misery and pain.

“Mordred, I think…”

“You need me!” A small voice exclaimed, sounding urgent.

“Pip…” Mordred whispered, smiling at the Faery.

“How can you help?” Merlin asked. 

“It has to be non-magic and magic blood together on the key,” Pip explained. “Simple. And as a Faery, I’m a purely magical being. Even more so than you First Order wizards.”

“How much of your blood do we need?” Merlin wanted to know, looking at how small Pip was. It looked like all his blood would be necessary to cover the key fully. And Merlin didn’t want the Faery to die.

“Just a little bit of blood. As a tiny magic boost, that’s all. No harm to me,” Pip reassured him. Then he peered over at Mordred. “You don’t look well, Mordred,” he said in concern.

“Don’t mind me. Curing the land is more important,” Mordred said firmly.

Pip frowned, but he flew over to the key regardless. He pricked his finger and let a few drops of blood fall on to the key. 

His blood glowed purple while Arthur’s glowed a bright white.

The three of them all heard enchanting, bell-like music. It was the most beautiful sound all of them had ever heard.

The land around them started glowing both white and purple. The two colours mixed together until the glow became a pretty pale purple.

Eventually the glow subsided and the music faded away, leaving them with one last haunting beautiful note.

Merlin looked to Mordred. “Your affliction?” He asked, wanting to know if the key had worked. That the afflictions were gone.

Mordred started blinking, looking around him as if seeing the world for the first time. “Honestly. How do the rest of you get any work done with all these colours around?” He said.

Then he grinned at Merlin and Pip.

Merlin smiled, happier than he’d felt in a while. He couldn’t believe it. The key had worked. 

If only Arthur were awake to see it…

Merlin glanced over at Arthur who was still in the grips of a deep slumber.

“What about your memory loss?” Mordred asked him.

Merlin shook his head. “I still don’t remember Arthur properly. To me, the first time I saw him was today when Rufus had attacked him.”

“Rufus! I hate that man,” Mordred said.

“I killed him.” 

“Good,” said Mordred, pleased. “Maybe you’ll know your memory loss is gone after sunrise tomorrow. That’s when you forget after all. With the cure in place, tomorrow might be the reverse for you.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I hate having to wait,” Merlin said.

“But you’ll be better. If Mordred is cured, then you should be too,” Pip said confidently.

“I hope so.”

“I think…I can’t hold on any longer,” Mordred whispered. He lay down on the ground, his hand to his sweaty brow.

“Mordred, no… I don’t want you to die… I’m not ready to say goodbye,” Merlin pleaded with him.

He grasped Mordred’s hand while Pip settled below Mordred’s chin.

“Well you have to be ready… there’s little time. I made my choice. Never blame yourself. I couldn’t be happier. Live, Merlin. Okay? Go and see…your…daughter…look after…my…son,” Mordred said, speaking slowly in a bare whisper.

“Yes, I will. I won’t let you down,” Merlin reassured him quickly.

Mordred smiled at him, a peaceful look upon his face as he passed away.

Pip flew to Mordred’s brow and kissed him there. He looked terribly sad.

“I will. I promise you, Mordred. I’ll make sure your son knows how good you were,” he promised out loud again. He hoped Mordred’s ghost would hear him.

“Merlin?” 

Merlin turned around. 

“Arthur? You’re awake!” Merlin said, pleased to see him up. “The land is cured thanks to the key. I’m hoping by sunrise tomorrow, I won’t have my memory loss and I’ll remember you as I should.”

Arthur smiled, letting Merlin embrace him. Then Arthur noticed the dead man nearby, the dark-haired man he believed to be Mordred. It was a sight he couldn’t bear to see. Healing the land shouldn’t involve someone dying.

“Is Mordred…?” He asked Merlin.

“He paid the price for doing the time rewind spell. He knew the consequences,” Merlin told him quietly.

Arthur sighed. He didn’t even get the chance to thank him for saving Merlin’s life.

Pip spoke then. “It’ll be a new day tomorrow. Everyone will be grateful to you both for what you’ve done.”

“How I am alive though? I was sure I would die,” said Arthur.

Pip answered when Merlin looked at a loss as to how to explain Arthur’s miraculous recovery.

Arthur didn’t miss Pip looking uncertainly at Merlin as if he would take offence to what the Faery prince would say next. “A long time ago, when that wizard of the First Order put more magic than was safe into the land, the Queen of the Faeries raised her concerns to him. Unfortunately the wizard disregarded the Queen’s words and failed to seek a way to undo his actions. Mystra, leader of the First Order…” But Pip was interrupted by Merlin.

“I remember learning that history. Mystra told me and others within the Order about how she wouldn’t stand for those of the First Order to have such a poor relationship with Faeries. She found it an outrage that a wizard would not listen to a high-standing member of Faery society. That was why she ensured that future generations would be taught to respect and listen to the Faeries. That despite their small size, that didn’t mean we should not take them seriously.”

“We have just as much magic, maybe even more powerful, than that of a First Order member,” Pip noted.

Merlin nodded. “A truth sometimes forgotten, but yes.”

“So what does this have to do with me being healed now?”

“The Faery Queen, Clara her name was, desired to do something to aid the Pristinely Ungifted one who would cure the land centuries from her time. She was my ancestor, you see, so I know this story well. She made sure that the innocent soul who would be keeper of the key would live no matter her affliction. This child, Grace, as you know Arthur, lives even if another person with her condition may not have been so lucky. She was able to give you the key you required as a result. As for you, Clara wanted you to live too – to ensure the land is healed, of course, but also afterwards that you would serve as a living reminder to all First Order members that they are not invincible. She didn’t want you dying before your time, but to live a long life instead. With you being Pristinely Ungifted, you force Order members to remember that using their powerful magic won’t protect them every time.”

Arthur glanced sideways at Merlin, wondering what he was thinking about all this. Arthur didn’t like his presence being meant to remind Merlin and others of his kind that they can be just as weak and powerless as anyone else. Well, for someone like that Rufus who had stabbed him, Arthur would have to make an exception. He was not upset at all that his blood led to Rufus dying. 

Merlin gave Arthur a small, assuring smile. “It’s okay. I understand why Queen Clara would do such a thing. It’s foolish to believe that no one can hurt you. With all our power, my kind can forget that…but I’m glad you’re here, Arthur. And I’m grateful to have met you, and I hope to remember all the other things we did together.”

“You’re taking this well…” Arthur said, perplexed. “I promise I won’t do anything to hurt you, Merlin,” he assured him.

Merlin rubbed his brow like he had a headache. “Yes. I trust you won’t.” Then he turned his attention to Pip. “So the purple butterflies and your blood glowing purple? That’s all Faery magic, is it?”

“Wait a moment. Butterflies? When did that happen?” Arthur spoke up, confused.

“When you were on the edge of death,” Merlin told him. “Eight butterflies came to heal you. They must have been a part of the Faery Queen’s plan to make sure you live. And Pip gave some of his blood to mix with your blood on the key. The spell to cure the land succeeded thanks to adding Pip’s blood.”

“It was Faery magic,” Pip confirmed. “Other beings may forget that the source of Faery magic is different from that of magic gifted to humankind. Our magic comes from water, an ever-pure source of magic. That’s why Faery magic compliments the magic of a Pristinely Ungifted one. Both magicks are pure in their own way -- Faery magic purified by water and Pristinely Ungifted non-magic purifying most other magicks by stopping their effects. The butterflies were imbued with Faery magic and were able to heal you, Arthur. And also, the Faery magic in my blood cooperated with your blood to bring an end to the afflicted land.”

“So Faery magic can be used on me?” Arthur voiced. 

He touched his hazel tree necklace thoughtfully. What if his mother had used Faery magic to make the necklace work on him?

Pip nodded. “There are limitations such as Faery magic cannot cause you ill. Only a positive effect like healing you will work.”

“There’s a chance my mother used such magic to make the hazel tree pendant work on me.”

Arthur showed him his hazel tree pendant. Pip flew up to his neck to inspect it.

“Most likely,” Pip agreed as he took a closer look at the magical pendant. “I don’t know of any other magic that could have an effect on you.”

Arthur was glad to finally know what sort of magic had been behind the pendant. Though now it didn’t make much difference since his mother was dead, the power of the pendant gone as a result. But maybe in the future, the information would be useful. He couldn’t say no to quicker magical healing.

“I need to check on Mordred…” Merlin spoke up, his voice very quiet. 

Arthur was worried for him. 

He had a feeling Merlin would break. Not even undoing a centuries-old curse on the land could fully take away the grief for the loss of a close friend.

“All right. I’ll still be here. Pip and I will help you with anything you need,” Arthur assured him.

Pip nodded. “Yes. You’re not alone.”

Merlin acknowledged their support with a nod, but he still appeared upset. His earlier happiness felt like so long ago now. 

Arthur watched him go over to Mordred and readjust his hands to a position Merlin deemed appropriate. 

“Merlin still carries his affliction,” Pip said to Arthur. “Sometimes an affliction can give a person strange side effects like their mood shifting quickly.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Arthur agreed. 

He remembered Merlin shunning him after he found his journal to be blank. And then how not long afterwards, Merlin was all too interested in getting intimate with Arthur. “I want to help if I can. He helped me to cure the land, so I will remain to support him.”

“I think you and him are a good match.” Pip commented. 

“I think…I really do care for him. I haven’t known him for that long, but being with him, by his side, feels like the best choice I could ever make,” Arthur said sincerely, feeling that he truly meant every word.

Pip smiled. “It’s a nice feeling to have. I wish some day that I would feel the same for another,” he said hopefully. “I believe you’d like to meet your true mother? Queen Ygraine? I work with the First Knight of Camelot, and whenever you are ready I could come with you to see her. It’d be good to enter Camelot with someone like me who is familiar with the kingdom. I know my way around. I’m sure you’ll be anxious enough without figuring out how to navigate the place.”

“Thank you. I’ll take you up on that offer one day soon.”

“Not a problem. Merlin can come too if he wants to,” Pip told him. “Now unfortunately I must leave. I need to return to that First Knight, Sir Lancelot is his name. He’ll be wondering where I am. Good luck to you, Arthur.” He wished him.

The Faery prince said goodbye to Merlin as well with a small wave. Merlin looked up, giving a small wave in return.

Then Pip was gone, disappearing in a small burst of purple light.

Arthur looked over at Merlin, sighing as he did so. He went over to where he saw Falcon lying on the ground. Always feeling better with Falcon with him, Arthur took the bird toy in hand.

He sat down beside Merlin who was still by Mordred’s dead body.

But now Merlin was peering at the family emblem ring on his finger.

“Merlin…” Arthur began, then stopped. He wasn’t sure what to say. 

“My father visited me, and I don’t remember it. I hope I never will.”

“I think you will with the sunrise tomorrow. No one likes the bad memories, but sometimes they make the good memories even better,” Arthur said as gently as he could.

“I hate him,” Merlin said. “Because of his affliction, my mum and sister paid the worst price imaginable. How dare my father give me this ring? It’s a reminder of how our family came to ruin. And don’t you see, Arthur?” He looked to Arthur, such a fierce almost wild expression on his face that it surprised Arthur.

“What is it?”

“I think that First Order wizard, the one who put too much magic into the land centuries ago… he was of my bloodline. He was my ancestor, he had to be. Why else was I the First Order wizard who was supposed to help you save the land? It was so I could fix the wrongs of my ancestor.”

“Do you have any other proof? Do you know for sure?”

“I can never know for certain. Mystra made the First Order forget what bloodline that wizard came from when the afflictions became a nightmare for everyone. She didn’t want the family to be shunned for their connection to the wizard who started the whole mess.”

“Then you should let it go if you’ll never know the truth. I won’t leave you if you are related to the wizard. It doesn’t matter if you share the same blood as him. You are Merlin, and you are a good person. Anyway, in the end, that wizard had thought he was doing the right thing. It was wrong that he was stubborn enough to disregard a Faery Queen’s advice, but he isn’t the first to be stubborn and he won’t be the last. I admit I’m not the most worldly of people, but I have faith in your goodness,” Arthur told him earnestly, hoping his words would get through to Merlin.

“I’m glad you’re here, Arthur,” Merlin finally spoke after several long moments of silence.

Arthur then offered Falcon to Merlin. “Here. This bird is named Falcon,” he told him, understanding that with Merlin’s memory loss, he wouldn’t remember what Arthur had told him about the bird. “I’ve had him all my life, but now I think you need him more than me.”

Merlin hugged Falcon to him, and Arthur saw silent tears fall down on Merlin’s face. He let Merlin use his shoulder to rest his head.

“We’ll give Mordred a funeral fitting for the hero he was. What do you say?” Arthur suggested. 

“That would be good. Yes. He deserves that,” Merlin said in agreement, giving a small sad sigh afterwards.

Arthur felt right sitting there with Merlin. They had cured the land together, and he didn’t doubt that they could conquer any other task life sent their way.

~ * ~

**Epilogue:**

Merlin did remember the past six months, his memory loss reversed come sun rise the following day. With Merlin being freed from his affliction, Arthur had felt that they had now truly succeeded.

The funeral for Mordred was on one of the most beautiful lakes Arthur had ever seen. Merlin’s wizard’s fire lit the boat that carried Mordred. It was a dark night, and the flames overtook the boat like a light in the darkness.

Arthur was not surprised when Merlin collapsed to the ground, cursing Mordred for dying when Merlin deserved to die, not him.

Coming down to sit beside him, Arthur tried his best to comfort Merlin.

“Merlin, please,” he pleaded. “If it was possible, I’d want Mordred to be alive now. But he gave his life for you, and it was his choice. You have to respect that, Merlin. I know it can be hard, but I’m sure that’s what Mordred would have wanted you to do. I may not have known him like you did yet I don’t think he would’ve wanted you to be alone and miserable.”

Merlin looked to Arthur, his face pale and unhappy. “Mordred…he told me to live and not to blame myself but I still don’t like someone dying for my sake.”

“I know. I would feel awful too. It’s not easy, but I’m here to help you. I won’t leave you, Merlin. I promise.”

“Why are you still with me? Anyone else would see I’m not worth it.”

“Then they’re mad. You are worth it to me,” Arthur told him firmly. Then he confessed, “You’re my first true friend. I’m not going to abandon you when you need me the most.”

“Thank you,” Merlin said to him, giving him a sincere smile.

They both sat in silence for a long time, the fire from the boat becoming but a pinprick of light as the boat settled off in the distance. 

Eventually, Merlin stood up and began to remove his clothing. “I’m going into the lake,” he told Arthur before he could ask.

“It’s probably freezing,” Arthur noted.

“Not this lake. Join me if you want,” he offered to him.

Arthur watched Merlin unapologetically walk into the lake, completely naked. It was the first time Arthur had ever seen Merlin naked, and he idly wondered how he’d look in daylight. The present darkness made seeing him properly difficult. While this was probably the last thing Merlin should be doing after a funeral for his friend, Arthur accepted that people did strange things to cope with loss. So Arthur wouldn’t stop him. He decided to take Merlin’s offer, and followed his lead, taking off his clothes and going into the lake, feeling half-mad while doing so. Just in case Merlin decided to drown himself, Arthur felt the only way to keep his friend safe was to be closer to him.

Fortunately Merlin had been right and the water was warm despite it being a cool night. 

“My mum,” Merlin spoke up as he floated on his back in the water. Arthur floated beside him. “She loved to be in the water. Said it made her happy. That after swimming in the water, she felt truly alive.”

“I can’t argue with her there.”

“I miss her,” Merlin said in a plaintive voice. “I really do.”

Arthur didn’t know what to say. He felt words weren’t enough. So he just grasped Merlin’s hand.

“I miss my mother too. Even if she kidnapped me, I still believe she loved me as if I were her own son,” Arthur confided in him.

“Life should make more sense instead of being a tangled mess,” Merlin said after a long moment, sighing afterwards.

Arthur agreed with him wholeheartedly.

~ * ~

A week later, Arthur went with Merlin to see Merlin’s daughter, Lily. Arthur decided that afterwards, with Pip as a guide, he’d head to Camelot to meet the mother he had never known. Merlin had agreed to go with Arthur and Pip. Arthur had been grateful for that because he felt Merlin being there with him would provide him with the strength he needed to see his mother.

As fast as her four-year old feet could take her, Lily rushed out of the two-storied dwelling to meet her father. 

Merlin’s daughter had a flurry of blonde curls, taking after her mother, but her eyes were the same shade of blue as Merlin’s. She was wearing a pale blue dress and there were tiny jewels – white, blue and pink – throughout her hair.

Merlin grinned genuinely at her and swept her up in his arms. 

“Daddy! Look what I got!” Lily exclaimed. She waved a magical toy of a blue dragon breathing out a fire-coloured phoenix. 

Arthur thought it was quite an impressive-looking toy. It reminded him of Falcon and how almost magical and alive he felt. 

“It’s beautiful, sweetheart. That’s our family symbol,” Merlin said to her. Arthur felt the burden in Merlin’s words, knowing how that symbol reminded Merlin of things he’d rather forget.

“That’s why I love it,” said Lily, smiling. She kissed her father on the nose.

“Did Brigit give it to you?” Merlin asked her. 

Brigit was Lily’s caretaker, Arthur had been told by Merlin. She was also the mother of Mordred’s infant son.

Lily shook her head.

Then Arthur saw Merlin’s eyes widen and he was suddenly very still, everything about him indicated shock. He soon saw what had caused Merlin to react in this way.

An older man who resembled Merlin except for the greying hair and beard was in front of the home. It had to be Merlin’s father. The older man just stood there, making no move to approach Merlin as if unsure whether or not he was welcome.

Arthur thought this would be good for Merlin. If the afflictions had been lifted, then that would mean Merlin’s father wouldn’t have his paranoia anymore. Merlin had to take this opportunity to reconcile with him.

“Merlin?” Arthur spoke up. 

Lily was looking concerned at her father’s behavior. Arthur was somewhat worried that Merlin would drop Lily due to being distracted by his father’s unexpected presence.

“Daddy?” Lily whispered. 

Merlin turned to him. “Arthur…could you…could you take Lily?” Merlin asked him. “Lily dear, Arthur’s a good friend of mine. You stay with him, okay?” He told her as he set his daughter down on the ground.

“But daddy…the pretty dragon toy…grandpa gave it to me,” she informed him. “I like him. He’s nice.”

“I’m glad to hear that, love. I’ll just talk to him for a little while,” Merlin told her, smiling at her. 

Arthur could almost feel the tension and anticipation on Merlin as he walked toward his father.

“Good luck, Merlin,” Arthur wished him. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

Merlin turned his head and he gave him a nod, understanding. 

Soon, Merlin and his father entered the house together and they were out of view. 

Lily was still beside Arthur. She tugged on his trousers. “Arthur?”

“Yes, Lily?” He asked. He knelt down so that he was on eye-level with her.

“Why do you have a white glow? Are you an angel?” The little girl wondered innocently.

Arthur wanted to laugh at the thought that he’d be seen as an angel. Fortunately he managed to hold back the laughter.

“No, I’m not. I just have a special type of magic, that’s all,” Arthur explained, deciding that was easier than telling a young child about his Pristinely Ungifted condition.

“Wow,” Lily declared with an awed look in her blue eyes. 

Arthur smiled, and patted her on the head. He was grateful that Lily didn’t have to suffer an affliction thanks to what Merlin and he had done. And he thought of the Keeper of the Key, Grace. He sincerely hoped she had been freed of her physical affliction. 

Freed from the curse of afflictions, the world seemed like a much brighter place now. And with the bond he shared with Merlin, Arthur couldn’t be happier.

~ * ~

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler for story (dealing with the character death(s)):
> 
> Neither Arthur nor Merlin die permanently by the story's end.


End file.
